


The Priest and the Captain

by Cyberrat



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: BAMF Kirk, BAMF Spock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Faulty/Uneducated use of Religion, First Time, Fluff, Humor, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Romance, Virginity, the crew of the Enterprise generally being BAMFs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by argona on the K/S-Archive:</p><p>I can't get the idea of a priest Spock out of my mind so this is what I want. I want Spock as a Vulcan priest who has devoted his life to serving the temple and I want Jim to fall in love with him and do anything he can to claim what he wants.Jim as a captain realizes that Spock is wasting his life as a priest while by joining him he can serve his people in much greater ways.Of course I'm fine with anything as long as Spock is the priest and Jim falls in love with him first and tries to persuade him into a relationship. Thank you in advance!<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that English is not my first language. Although I'm studying it I am prone to do a lot of little mistakes (or even major ones). Later chapters have been corrected by a beta-reader. I'll credit her when we come to them.

The first time Kirk met him, was only weeks after the start of his first five year mission.

They’d been lazily exploring the galaxy up until now, surveying only two planets and were unexpectedly bored out of their minds. He would have thought the life of a Starship Captain way more... adventurous. That’s at least how he had dreamed it to be all those years, so he was kind of disillusioned to just be conducting surveys of normal-to-boot Class-M planets.

His crew, too, seemed to get a little uncomfortable with the ongoing peacefulness and everyone had decided to turn deaf at the constant nagging of their CMO Leonard McCoy, that they are gonna wish it’ll be that quiet and dandy as soon as we’ve got our asses handed to us by a bunch of Klingons, damn it!

Kirk almost was glad, when Starfleet seemed to take pity on their brand new flagship and offered them a treat by sending them towards Vulcan in order to not only show off their wonderful, gleaming Enterprise, but also to take cargo as well as politicians with them on a ride through the galaxy to a gaggle of planets that were assigned for some conference-or-other.

Unfortunately, the Captain had next to nothing to do, while Chief Engineer Scott was conducting the storing of the cargo and Communication’s Officer Uhura was dallying with the Vulcan representatives. Later that day – going to night, really – he would be needed for the official welcoming banquet, but until then Kirk had free reign of his time as long as he was in contact with the ship.

So the young Captain made his way through ShiKahr, looking at the exotic buildings, shops and the native residents. However, all of it was so... severe; so strict. It made him feel pressured and shackled for some reason. Vulcans were nice people, but living on the dreary planet? He could never imagine it. His feet dragged the human unthinkingly to the outer reaches of the huge city, seeking a more natural environment in all the functionality surrounding him.

He had to rub his eyes every now and again – the dry, fine sand was making them itch and the heat radiating from the red sun was enough to make his breath short and kind of sticky in his lungs. It wasn’t before long, that the human saw a structure at the huge stone wall towering on the edge of the city, where little houses were huddling together on the outskirts of ShiKahr. The structure was a roughly hewn stone arch, made out of red stone and leading the way further into the massive mountain it was carved into.

The Captain reached up with one hand, shading his eyes against the diffuse light surrounding him and trying to work any details out of the picture. Was that an abandoned structure? It kind of looked like it – very old and almost invisible against the craggy surface of the stone wall. Not at all like the shining efficiency of ShiKahr, that was towering in his back and being strangely quiet all the same – because Vulcans did not seem to make any noise at all.

The young man felt his heart leap a little at the prospect of finding some diversion, after all. His stride was confident and a mixture between hurried anticipation and cool, lazy negligence, as he sauntered towards the huge stone wall and the arch, someone must have hewn into the very rock endless time ago.

The arch was plain and simple – there were no ornaments, safe for one face at the very top. However, the face was so withered, that Kirk couldn’t even tell which expression it had once sported. Only the pointed ears seemed to be a dead giveaway that it was of Vulcan origin.

Shallow steps were leading into the inner area – they were full of the red, fine dust, which was whirling all over Vulcan, but they seemed well trodden and were very smooth to the touch, as Kirk could discern after bending down and feeling it.

He raised his head again, looking into the dark corridor leading into uncharted territory and felt a giddy tingling in his stomach. This was exciting! He raised one foot, while his hand went for his utility belt, where a lamp was attached, as he saw further down the corridor a flickering. Kirk immediately stopped and blinked in surprise. The flickering had looked like – there it was again! – it looked like flames!

Was there someone, after all?

“Hello?” Kirk called into the darkness. He got no response whatsoever. The Captain frowned, one hand at his phaser on his hip, while he made his way up the shallow steps and gingerly into the corridor. “Someone there? Heyyyy?” he called again, while slowly walking into the corridor, his eyes now fixed on the flickering at the end – it was constant now.

The corridor was filled with cool, moist air and after the oppressive heat of the world outside it made him shiver and elicited goosebumps all over his arms. The little hair prickled against the sleeves of his golden command tunic.

“Helloooo – oh!” he called, coming to an abrupt halt, his eyes widening startled, as he was about to round a corner and came suddenly face to face with another man.

The first thing Kirk could make out, was a pale face with a greenish tint to the creamy skin and large, dark eyes fixing him in curiosity. The next was immaculately cut, coal black hair, pointed ears and a long, black – or maybe dark brown – robe the man was wearing.

“Woa!” Kirk panted slightly, one hand pressed to his chest, where his heart was beating in a fast staccato. “Could’ve warned me, man! You freaked me really out.”

The Vulcan cocked his head slightly to one side, scrutinizing the Captain and saying with slow deliberation, “That was not my intent. I am grieved to have caused you distress, Sir. However, would you kindly remove your weapon from my person? I am unarmed and I can assure you – quite harmless.”

Kirk blinked a few times and felt unbelievably dumb in the face of this eloquence directed his way, while all he could think of was, ‘His voice is very nice.’ It took him two seconds before he realized the last part and followed the downward gaze of the Vulcan towards his phaser that he had pressed against the midsection of the other man. His eyes widened and with a startled, “Oh! I’m sorry!” he drew the weapon hastily away and stored it at his utility belt. He cleared his throat, taking one step back and straightening his shoulders.

“I assure you I was not intending to...” he faltered slightly, searching for words. The corners of the Vulcan’s eyes seemed to crinkle in amusement in the flickering light of the torch he was holding up.

“...to shoot me without warning?” he amended and –yes, Kirk was pretty sure there was a mischievous tone in the dark silky voice. He felt a slight tingling deep in his stomach. Before he could answer, though, the Vulcan continued, “You are from Starfleet, if I’m not mistaken? Your uniform seems familiar. Are you a helmsman? Or navigator?”

Kirk blinked a few times, slightly taken aback by the strange questioning, before his mouth curled into a grin and he raised one arm in order to show the golden stripes at his sleeves.

“No. I am the Captain of the Enterprise. James Tiberius Kirk – at your service.”

There was another slight crinkling at the corners of the eyes and Kirk was reasonably sure he did not only imagine it due to the flickering light.

“Ah... I see. Are all Captains as trigger-happy as you, Mister James Tiberius Kirk?”

Kirk felt himself flush slightly and cleared his throat.

“Maybe you could tell me your name, before you go and mock high ranking Starfleet personnel?” he asked without any ire in his voice. Nevertheless, the face of the Vulcan immediately went emotionless and he took one step back.

“Of course. My apologies – it was not my intent to be mocking. My name is Spock.”

Kirk raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded. He waited for more, but the Vulcan was quiet and just looking at him with placid patience.

“Well, Spock?” he said at last, looking around the dark corridor they were standing in, “Uh... where are we? And what are you doing here?”

The Vulcan cocked his head slightly to the side and slowly but surely Kirk got the feeling that this Vulcan was not like the other Vulcans. His big, dark eyes were more expressive than the once he had seen all day in placid, shut off faces and the little mannerisms – like the cocking of the head – seemed strangely out of place. He was... intrigued.

“This is a temple for _Kir-alep_ ,” Spock intoned and after Kirk had stared at him without reaction for about five seconds, the man raised one slanted eyebrow and explained, “The Vulcan God of Peace.”

Understanding dawned in the Captain’s face and his lips formed an ‘O’ of enlightenment, before he frowned.

“I did not know Vulcans had Gods.”

A strange expression flitted across Spock’s face and the Vulcan turned slightly away, pointing with the arm holding the torch into the darkness, where he probably had come from.

“Maybe you’d like to see the inner sanctum, Captain Kirk?” he suggested and Kirk grinned. He was no religious man, but somehow it was only too easy to say congenially, “Of course! Lead the way, my friend!” And wonder about the almost startled look thrown his way over a shoulder.

 

They did not have to walk long – soon the corridor gave way for a chamber that was way smaller than he would have expected. It was about as big as the Enterprise’s chapel and very sparsely furnished. The only real ornament was a big statue at the head of the room, showing off a regally standing individual; the face, however, was smiling and benign.

“Is this _Kir-alep_?” he asked. Spock, who had put the torch on a hook at the wall, was turning towards him, folding his hands in front of his body in the depths of his large sleeves.

“Yes. _Kir-alep_ , the God of Peace and... Acceptance,” the Vulcan intoned. Again, there was a strange expression flitting over his face before it smoothed back into placid lines. Kirk slowly looked around, but his eyes were all the time drifting back towards the strange Vulcan at his side. There really was something – unusual about Spock. He just could not put his finger on it right away.

“And what are you doing here?” he asked. Spock looked towards the statue and stared a long time at it, before he answered, “I am a Priest.”

Kirk waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. He looked around – there was only one door hidden in a little niche, nothing else.

“Where are the other priests?”

“There are no other priests,” Spock said, sounding slightly surprised and looked back towards the Captain, who raised his eyebrows.

“You work here alone?”

“Indeed.”

“Isn’t that... lonely? Don’t you get bored?” the man spluttered exasperated.

For a few seconds he thought he had insulted the Vulcan, for the expressive eyes were totally shuttered for a split second, but almost as fast, there was a little crinkling at the corners and Spock shook his head.

“No... I am quite adapt at keeping myself occupied. I am also living nearby.”

“In one of the little houses on the edges of ShiKahr?” Kirk asked in curiosity. He could not say why he found the life of a little monk so interesting. Spock nodded slowly and lapsed into silence, while Kirk gazed around. The Captain slowly went up to the happy looking statue. The face was really strange – it was Vulcan and so it simply seemed out of place in its obvious mirth.

Spock spoke directly behind him, startling the human once more, “The Vulcan Gods are from pre-Surakian times. Only... few believe in them anymore or pay them respect.”

The Captain blew a long breath out and turned around, finding himself nose to nose with Spock. From this close proximity he could make out the deep brown iris of his eyes – it looked very soft and gentle. Spock hastily took a step backwards.

“You believe in it?” Kirk asked idly. The Vulcan turned his gaze once more up into the smiling face and very pointedly did not answer the question, rather asking one himself, “Why are you on Vulcan, Captain Kirk?”

Kirk filed that information away and grinned at the priest.

“I’m loading cargo and a few delegates onto the Enterprise and then we’re off delivering them to some congress,” he said, trying to sound cool and as if he wasn’t unbelievably excited about his first mission in which he was to protect someone. However, from the slight crinkling at Spock’s eyes he could discern that he probably hadn’t succeeded entirely in hiding his enthusiasm.

“So you will be departing soon, I take it?”

“Yep. Tonight is a feast and tomorrow afternoon we’re off into the stars.”

There was a twitch in Spock’s right eyebrow and his lips parted a little bit, but he said nothing. Kirk, however, had the unmistakable feeling of having said something wrong.

He blinked a few times, searching the Vulcan’s face for clues, but Spock was turning around and walking to one of the few mats scattered about the room. He knelt down in a motion Kirk could only describe as graceful and his black robe was pooling about him. Spock looked small all of a sudden, kneeling there in the unrelenting black.

Kirk licked his lips nervously.

“Am I interrupting?”

“I was about to enter meditation, when I heard you calling,” Spock did one of his none-answers. Kirk nodded slowly and drew out an “OOOokaaay...” not entirely sure if that was a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

Spock closed his eyes and seemed determined to ignore him all of a sudden. The Captain cleared his throat and sauntered to the entryway.

“Well I... won’t be troubling you any longer. Uh...” he stopped and turned to Spock again.

“You coming to the feast tonight?”

Spock turned around, a split second of surprise on his features, before the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly and he shook his head.

“No. I am quite sure that only the Vulcan Elders are allowed,” he intoned. Kirk deflated a little and nodded.

“Oh.. right... yes,” he said and extended his hand towards Spock for a parting handshake, “Well, see you around, eh?” he enthused with a little forced happiness.

The Vulcan was looking at his hand in obvious puzzlement, slanted eyebrows slightly rising, before understanding dawned and the corner of his mouth curled a tiny bit upwards. He raised one arm, causing the long, wide sleeve to slide down, bunching around the crook of his elbow – and Kirk was struck by how pale and perfect that arm looked and how long and graceful the fingers were, that were spreading right now into a strange V form.

“Live long and prosper, Captain Kirk,” Spock intoned.

There was again that tingling in Kirk’s stomach.

 

He somehow wasn’t present with his whole heart at the feast. The food was excellent – even though there was no meat – the music was strange but agreeable and his crew seemed fascinated with the Vulcans and happy to be out of the confines of the ship.

But Kirk couldn’t help thinking that he did not quite like the emotionless faces and monotone voices. He had to think of the priest in his run down, little temple to a God no one seemed to follow and thought he liked him way more than the rest of this bunch.

 

It was a surprise even to Captain Kirk, when he found himself around midday again in front of the arch into the Temple of _Kir-alep_ – thinking it hilariously funny, because he always thought of ridiculously big buildings, when he heard temple and this little thing was more a storeroom – and slowly strolling inside.

He lit his path with his flashlight this time and called, “Spock?” before entering the ‘inner sanctum’ (and that was also a hilarious name).

The Vulcan was kneeling on one of the mats again and turned around, his slanted eyebrows raised.

“Captain Kirk?” he said in what the human thought disbelief and he grinned in response.

“In the flesh,” he intoned, swaggering inside and looking at the kneeling alien.

“What have you been up to?”

“Meditating,” Spock said, looking a little at a loss for words. Kirk reached one hand towards him and after a few seconds of Spock just looking blankly at it, he said insistently, “Come, I’ll help you up!”

“I assure you, I need no assistance,” the Vulcan said with great dignity and stood in one fluid motion. Kirk smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

“I thought you would have already departed,” Spock said slowly, watching the human with sharp, intelligent eyes. Kirk smiled and nodded.

“Yep – they are putting on the finishing touches. I don’t have much time.”

“Why are you here?” the Vulcan asked in obvious confusion, cocking his head slightly – and Kirk refused to think it looked adorable.

“Uh... I...” he started and faltered slightly, not sure anymore. He had just wanted to see the priest after having been confronted with so many utterly Vulcan individuals last night. But that was sounding kind of sappy and idiotic, so...

“I wanted to know more about _Kir-alep_ ,” he blurted out. Spock slowly raised his eyebrows and said nothing, obviously waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kirk cleared his throat and looked the Vulcan up and down. It was impossible to tell the shape of the body underneath the robes – they were too wide and asexual to give any indication.

“You’ve got some... ah... books?” he said, desperately looking for something to say; he did not want to seem like an idiot, after all.

Spock got a strange look at that and nodded slowly.

“Indeed I have some books... however...”

“Can I have one? I’ll give it back to you as soon as I’m in the quadrant again!” Kirk interrupted eagerly, somehow the thought of having a legitimate cause to come back to this little temple was making him feel giddy again.

Again a strange look on the placid face, but Spock nodded his assent.

“Of course. Please wait a moment,” he said and disappeared through the almost hidden door at the side. Only moments later he emerged with a dusty looking book in his hands.

Kirk was not looking at it, when the Vulcan offered it to him with an air of utter adoration towards the writings – he was looking into Spock’s face.

The corners of his eyes were crinkled again.

“I hope it will enlighten you, Captain Kirk. Please take utmost care with it,” the Vulcan intoned. He sounded utterly grave and as Vulcan as the individuals yesterday at the feast.

Why, then, had the human the feeling there was a good portion of mischief concealed somewhere?

 

Only three days later could Kirk sit down in his quarters and pull the book towards him. It was a lot of work, to have guests on board his ship and the Vulcans were letting him know everything that was not up to their liking. He also had found out that they were _not amused_ when someone touched them even casually. And he had observed some of them make the strange V-shape with their hands that he had seen Spock do.

He would ask Uhura about that.

Now, however, he wanted to utilize his time to find out more about the God his strange Vulcan priest was worshipping and...

Kirk flipped the book open and was startled into a laugh, which sounded at first a little strained but gave way to a real, mirthful belly laugh.

The book was written completely in Vulcan.

He should have expected that. He could not read even one word.

He was utterly delighted at the quiet prank the Vulcan had played on him and leaned back in his chair with a broad grin, one arm behind his head, the hand of the other arm, gingerly stroking the pages.


	2. Chapter 2

Lieutenant Uhura did not seem to entirely believe Kirk’s ostensibly innocent search for knowledge when he started dropping little questions during lulls in their shifts.

She always got a strange look to her eyes in these instances and one time, when he asked her nonchalantly to show him the Vulcan greeting, she could not suppress her smile, although she said nothing; the Captain was young and more lenient than others in the Fleet, but she did not feel comfortable enough to tease him in any way just yet.

When he, however, approached her in rec room 5 after her shift and asked her with an overly casual air – so casual, that it was obvious he was very interested – how many gods the Vulcans had and if she could tell him something about them, Uhura could not refrain from blurting out, “Why do you keep asking these things? You want to date a Vulcan or something?”

She immediately realized her fault, though, when Kirk clamped his mouth shut and went beet red. He muttered a flustered, “Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous!” before turning tail and fleeing from the scene.

 

So his plan in discreetly interrogating Uhura had not resulted in the desired outcome. The woman had to be a mind reader or something, he was sure of it. Otherwise he could not say how she had managed to – well. Not, that he wanted to go on a date with some little Vulcan priest in a little Vulcan temple, who he had only met once before and whose eyes were astonishingly expressive and...

Kirk blew a long breath out, while sitting back in his chair and staring at the opposite wall.

“Well... damn,” he muttered into the silence of the room.

 

Everyone had been looking a little strangely at Kirk when Starfleet sent a message to three ships, asking, if one of them volunteered in taking the Vulcan delegates back home, and the Captain immediately jumped on the request, declaring the Enterprise would be _delighted_.

Especially since the aliens had caused them some annoyance the last time they had brought them _to_ this conference.

However, he was the Captain and nobody dared arguing with him – other than the CMO – and, really, it was very nice to work under a man who was so enthusiastic and charming as James Tiberius Kirk. The same James Tiberius Kirk that seemed to vibrate with some inner joy and excitement, whose source none could fathom.

 

Kirk was nothing, if not resourceful. When his interrogation of his Communication’s Officer fell flat, he dived into the ship’s computers and tried wriggling every and any information out of them, he could find. He did not want to seem stupid or uneducated... Unfortunately, though, the Federation seemed to know very little of Vulcan gods.

He knew by now that, yes, there had been deities – at least three of them – but other than War, Death and Peace, there wasn’t much to gain. Kirk even felt a little smug at the knowledge, that he knew _more_ than the archives did – namely that the God of Peace was called _Kir-alep_ and that it was also the God of Acceptance and that it was worshipped by a mysterious Vulcan priest Kirk simply did not seem to be able to banish from his thoughts for long.

 

Kirk’s heart was beating somewhere in the cavity of his mouth, when he beamed down onto the surface of the planet and made his way pretty straight towards the outskirts of ShiKahr. He had the old Vulcan book – which he had studied religiously (pun not intended), even if he could not read it; the Vulcan script was at least pretty to look at – clutched under his right arm and he was wondering dazedly, why on earth he was so intent to talk to that little monk. _Spock_.

The implications of why he had so painstakingly fought for every little information about Vulcans he could get – secretive bastards, by the way – and the fact that he did want to _impress_ some _priest_ in the little fart of a temple, were a little scary, so he shied away from them mentally.

‘I’m a big Starship Captain, damn! I’m the youngest in the history of, like, forever. I’m a good looking bloke and I can charm my way through the Klingon Empire, if I needed to. _He_ should be impressed by _me_ ,’ he thought in an effort to calm his nervously beating heart.

Confidence newly established, he marched towards the inconspicuous arch in the stone wall – he had almost feared he would not find it again, because it was so easily overlooked, but apparently his memory had perfectly memorized everything. Huh. That was strange.

His strides were large and swaggering and – if he could say so himself – very manly and _impressive_ , but as soon as he stepped inside the crooked hallway with its bend a few metres down, and felt the rush of cool, moist air upon his face, Kirk faltered and his heart was back in his mouth and in danger of falling out of it, if he opened just that tiny bit.

So he remained silent instead of calling out towards the Vulcan and started walking. He marvelled at the sheer deviousness of his brain to provide him with so many scenarios what could go wrong, in the few moments it took to gingerly make his way through the darkness.

Spock could probably have decided he did not want to have anything to do with a human (he had found out during this second trip, that Vulcans were pretty stuck up and seemed to think humans... not entirely _inferior_ , but more like they were little puppies... cute sometimes, annoying most of the time and kind of intriguing in an ew-did-he-just-lick-his-own-butt way).

Maybe Spock wasn’t even alone and had company. He seemed a really nice bloke and it would be a shame, after all, if he hang out by himself all of the time.

Maybe Spock had a free day or something? Were there free days as a clergy man? Kirk was not entirely sure. He really was not religious and Vulcan religion seemed to be even more obscure than anything else, so... hmm..

Or maybe Spock wasn’t even _there at all_. Like he was now. Or wasn’t. Kirk was not entirely sure how to name it, while he was standing in the doorway to the little inner sanctum and stared at the emptiness of the room and the benign face of _Kir-alep_ and wondered why it suddenly seemed that the God was laughing mockingly at him.

Spock was not here... Where was he? On vacation?

And there he stood, the formidable Captain of a Starship – the _Flagship_ – of the Federation, holding an ancient book about a Vulcan God of Peace and Acceptance in one hand and staring forlornly into the unoccupied space of the sanctum and wondered, why he had been kind of anticipating to come back here since he had last stepped foot in the area one month ago; only for him standing there like a dork and no pointy-eared welcoming committee here to greet him.

So that was how Spock found him when the priest slipped out of the almost hidden door on the side and stopped dead in his tracks, staring with those big, intelligent eyes at the human and his austere face set in lines that were probably surprise, although nothing of it registered in his deep voice as he intoned, “Captain Kirk...?”

Kirk felt his face warm in an answer and was thankful for the inconsistent, flickering light in the sanctum. He stared at Spock and the Vulcan looked back and cocked his head _just so_ and the corners of his eyes seemed to crinkle _just that tiny bit_ and every witty rejoinder or gruff-manly greeting or flirtatious remark Kirk had thought of utilizing in those silent nights on the Enterprise, was swept out of his head and all he could muster was a highly ineloquent, “Unngf.”

One slanted, black eyebrow rose slowly towards a severe, straight hairline and the Vulcan closed the door he still held in the grasp of one hand softly.

“What brings you into my temple so soon?” Spock enquired and Kirk, finally, was jolted out of his stupor into a teasing grin and a drawled, “I thought it was _Kir-alep’s_ temple?”

Spock folded his hands in the hidden depths of his robe in front of his stomach and stepped towards the human, the gaze of dark eyes oddly penetrating. He said nothing to the remark, but Kirk fancied that his lips were curved upwards just that tiny bit, although that could be also a mirage brought on by the flickering lights.

An awkward silence descended upon them and then Kirk suddenly remembered the weight of the book in his hands and shoved it in an almost violent motion against Spock’s chest and croaked, “Did you laugh about me, after I left?”

The Vulcan took the offered book with very deliberate, careful motions – his fingers did not grace Kirk’s, to the Captain’s displeasure – and his face as well as his voice were perfectly solemn, when answering, “It provided me, indeed, with some amusement whenever I thought of it. I did not, however, laugh.”

A playful smile lit up Kirk’s face and he exclaimed, “You thought about me?”

The Vulcan looked surprised again for a moment, before he slowly pressed the book against his chest and turned his head a little to the side and – was that an emerald blush slowly creeping over exotic, high cheekbones? The Captain thought that it had been worth the wait of one month.

 

“May I ask how long you’ll be staying this time, Captain Kirk?” Spock inquired with his soft voice, while slowly sinking onto his knees in front of Kirk, who had sprawled down on one of the meditation mats, his legs carelessly crossed and bracing himself with arms behind him on the floor. Spock was looking so prim and proper, kneeling there in the sea of his voluminous, dark robe, setting out two plates between them on the floor. Kirk could not contain his happy, little smile and did not even try to hide it.

“Probably only until tomorrow, midday-ish. That is, if the brass hasn’t any other plans and we have to depart sooner rather than later,” he said, sitting up and looking down at the plates. One was full with strips of various coloured fruits, the other was, surprisingly enough, filled with cookies.

He looked up into Spock’s face, saw a soft, if shy, glimmering of dark, gentle eyes and it was absolutely impossible to fight against the broad smile stretching his lips at that point.

 

“So, I still don’t know very much about you,” Kirk said, watching Spock kneel in front of the smiling statue with his head bowed. He had been here for – what – three hours now? And yes, he had talked to the Vulcan, but somehow... he could not precisely tell _what_ they had been talking about. He had been too focussed on watching the subtle shifts in the Vulcan’s facial features or the way he was moving and was only vaguely aware of the fact that Spock had probably... maybe... kind of interrogated him about Starfleet and the Federation and the Enterprise.

For a little priest in a little temple on the outskirts of ShiKahr, Spock seemed to be very inquiring and surprisingly knowledgeable. His questions had been thoughtful and carefully worded, their content showing a certain amount of insight and that sharp kind of intelligence that never failed to thrill someone like Kirk, whose own brain never seemed to be able to calm down and who desperately needed minds like his own to engage his interest.

The Vulcan threw him a sideways glance that was kind of reproaching for interrupting his service to the god; however, it seemed to be only a perfunctory scowl, for he answered quite willingly, “There is not much to know about me.”

“You can’t say that!”

Spock looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows, face open and guileless as he said, “Why not?” as if he was seriously contemplating to apologize for his demure statement. Kirk just stared at the alien; suddenly it hit him that he was talking to a _priest_ – probably the most innocent creature he had ever had the pleasure of encountering (other than little kids and kittens) and it was strange to try and reconcile this knowledge with the fact that Spock had been so cheeky at times.

“You are such an odd Vulcan!” Kirk suddenly blurted out and almost wanted to grab the words and shove them back down his throat when he saw the way Spock’s face absolutely _fell_ and he went as rigid as the statue of _Kir-alep_ – just without the mirthfully smiling face.

He had not even wanted to say that. He had not even known these words were flying around his mouth. His eyes became wide as saucers and he stuttered, “That’s not what I wanted to... that is... I did not mean it the way it sounded...”

And damn, where was his prized eloquence when he needed it? Sucked straight out of him by a pair of big, dark eyes looking at him in ill concealed shock and a good helping of hurt.

He really had not meant it the way it sounded...

The silence was ringing between them. Spock said nothing – he did not even seem to breathe. Kirk wanted to prod at him, demand he say _something_ ; however, he was unfortunately interrupted by the whistling of his communicator and Uhura’s soft voice, telling him that he was needed on board.

Kirk swore under his breath and struggled to his feet, looking helplessly down at the still kneeling Spock – looking pale and in fear of drowning in all the black – and croaked, “I did not mean it... _seriously_! I... I’ll be back later. I want to talk to you.”

The Vulcan just sat there, looking at him, until Jim’s communicator whistled again and the Captain turned around with a growl and stalked out, berating himself for being ‘stupid, stupid, _stupid_ , damn it!’

 

It was deep in the night on Vulcan when Kirk got the orders from Starfleet to immediately head out on a rescue mission. His gut churned with a strange whirlwind of anticipation and thrill, as well as utter dread. Kirk did not like the thought of leaving Vulcan without having resolved his hiccup with the little priest and wondered why _that_ was the first thing he thought of when he heard of the priority 1 message.

The Enterprise, however, still needed to gear up for a few minutes more and he could just... well, he was the Captain after all and...

“Beam me to the coordinates I gave you,” Kirk barked, jumping on the transporter panel and levelling a glare at the Ensign at the transporter station when he stuttered something about ‘almost ready to depart’.

“Captain’s orders, Ensign!” he hissed and his face felt strangely hard and stretched. He must’ve looked quite wicked, for the man paled and energized without a word.

 

He materialized right in front of the temple and needed his flashlight to walk inside. Spock was – obviously – not in the inner sanctum this time. Kirk had not anticipated it. He put the PADD he was holding hurriedly down on the feet of _Kir-alep_ and looked at the notice he had posted on the screen.

It read, ‘ _Have been ordered away for an away mission. Don’t know when I’ll have time to come back, so – talk to me via PADD? Please? Tell me you’ve forgiven me! JTK_ ’

It was utterly pathetic, but he had been in a hurry and he wasn’t good in waxing poetically when he was running on adrenalin and trying to work out in the back of his head the logistics of the rescue mission.

His communicator whistled and Kirk had to run out of the temple in order to be picked up by his silver lady. Moments later she was warping out of orbit.

 

It would be two days until they arrived at their destination and Kirk was cranky, feeling restless and at the same time full of nervous, giddy energy. A rescue mission. An honest-to-god rescue mission!

The crew tried not to get in his way for he tended to either be obnoxiously exuberant or seriously pissy.

However, when he stomped into his quarters the night before they would arrive and saw the blinking of an e-mail on the screen of his computer, he dared to hope and dashed haphazardly towards it.

His heart skipped a beat as he laid eyes on the sender and his lips slowly but surely spread into a wide, beaming grin.

‘ _You are forgiven. Thank you for the PADD, Captain Kirk. This is very kind of you._ ’ How could words sound so utterly regal and snooty? He could perfectly imagine Spock’s pale face, with the intelligent eyes and the slight mocking crinkling in their corners.

Kirk blinked, realizing there was yet another sentence, farther down, as if written there almost in hopes he wouldn’t see it.

‘ _Please take care of yourself._ ’

He could practically _hear_ the shy blush that must’ve spread across the exotic cheekbones. Kirk plonked down in his chair and whirled it once around in a circle, emitting a giddy laugh, until he realized how childish and _girly_ he was behaving and immediately stopped, clearing his throat and staring again at the screen, muttering a rough and utterly manly sounding, “’S cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kirk, you girl xD next time you'll braid each other's hair LOL


	3. Chapter 3

Was it pathetic that his first thought after clearing the first dangerous mission had been, ‘I have to tell it Spock!’?

Maybe a little. But there really was no one else he could’ve bragged about how he had _breezed_ through the difficulties that had been put in his way. His mother came to mind, but she had been serving on Starships for over 20 years now and he doubted that she would be very impressed by anything he would manage this early on; and his crew knew already how utterly _awesome_ he was and he suspected Bones would try and strangle him, if he swaggered into his office one more time, so... no, there really was no one else he could tell about his triumph.

His fingers were flying over the keyboard, while he was conducting his message.

 

‘ _Hey Spock! You won’t_ believe _what happened. I can’t tell you the details (Starfleet forbids it unfortunately) but let me tell you: it was magnificent! It included me, a tribe of ostensibly hostile aliens and a party of abducted researchers._

_All in all it obviously has been a big misunderstanding – the researchers did not realize that the allegedly abandoned ruins were in fact still used, until it was too late, but... James T. Kirk came to the rescue, you know? I was really diplomatic! No one got wounded._

_The son of the chief even gifted me with a necklace – and it looks pretty expensive too. I can say with confidence – everybody is as happy as can be. The Enterprise’s first dangerous mission has been a complete success!_

_How have you been spending your time?_ ’

 

His fingers were hovering over the keyboard, suddenly unsure as to what he should be writing. He wanted to ask way more – wanted to get to know the Vulcan priest... However, he was unsure as to how he should go on about it. Spock had already seemed reluctant and he was pretty sure, if he just asked ‘Tell me about you’ he would get the same answer as before.

For the fraction of a second he had the ludicrous notion of typing ‘Do you miss me?’ but disregarded it quickly. That was simply too strange a thing to ask... they did not really know each other, after all. But he really was curious...

His gaze travelled towards the necklace lying on his desk. The son of the chief had given him the choice of a few coloured stones. In the end he had taken the necklace from which a smooth, round stone of a warm brown colour was dangling. The colour was the same as Spock’s eyes he realized now and felt his face heat up.

The Captain hastily sent the message, before he could embarrass himself with any attempt at flirting.

 

.oOo.

 

Kirk was sitting on the Captain’s chair, staring blankly at the wall of blackness, dotted with tiny, white pinpricks on the viewscreen in front of him, when the PADD lying in his lap gave a little beep. His head snapped down, staring at the symbol of a personal message blinking in the corner; he felt immediately the heat of an excited flush creep up his neck and his hands twitched towards the PADD. He wanted to read the message, but after a surreptitious glance upwards, he could see a few of the crewmembers shoot him strange and curious looks, so he simply cleared his throat and straightened back in his chair.

And damn, was it hard to just sit there for some time, pretending nothing out of the ordinary was going on while he was wrecking his brain about what Spock could’ve written to him. It was strange, this tingling feeling in his stomach, just from trying to imagine the written words of someone he had met only twice. His gaze slowly crept downwards into his lap and he caught himself staring at the flashing symbol.

It was still two hours until the Beta-shift came around. Could he wait as long?

...No.

Kirk clicked the message while curling slightly forward in his chair without realizing it, taking in the missive of the Vulcan priest.

 

‘ _Captain Kirk. I am gratified to know everything has gone according to plan. I take it, then, that you have not pointed your phaser at the stomach area of unsuspecting aliens by way of greeting?_ ’

 

Here Kirk was almost startled into a laugh and had to bite the tip of his tongue in order not to start chortling in self-deprecation.

 

‘ _It is indeed unfortunate that you won’t be allowed to tell me more of your adventures. I will have to engage my imagination, then, I’m afraid. To think that you not only have managed to break the researchers free without any incident, but also gained enough trust of the natives to gift you so richly is a very large feat, indeed._

_May I ask when the marriage will be conducted? You are, of course, aware that most tribes have the tradition to exchange their vows by gifting their intended with jewellery._ ’

 

At this, Kirk could not contain his indignant squawk and he could feel all colour leaving his face in a rush. Sulu turned around from his console and threw him a strange glance.

“Captain? Everything alright?”

“Yes... I...” he began, then cleared his throat and spoke in a much more authoritative and calm voice, “Of course, Mister Sulu. Doctor McCoy has requested my presence in sickbay – you have the command, until I’m back.”

Without waiting for the answer, Kirk surged out of the chair, the PADD still clutched in his hands, and strode towards the lift. He managed to look cool and collected, until the door opened. He even could throw Uhura a teasing, flirtatious grin, while it swished shut again. As soon as he was alone, he wrenched the PADD up again and let his eyes pour over the last paragraph he had read. That could not be true, could it?! He hadn’t been accepting a... a proposal, had he?

“Oh god...” he moaned mortified, forcing himself to read on.

 

‘ _I have to confess, I’m a bit surprised at the speed at which you have accepted it, but I am aware that I am not educated in the ways of courting and that the Vulcan customs are probably more subtle than the ones of other species._

_Has the Enterprise already gotten a new destination, Captain?_ ’

 

Kirk stared at the overall message for quite a while – to be exact, until the lift opened its doors on deck 5 and he was forced to stride out of the cubicle. It probably was highly unorthodox to leave his position just so he could write with a friend of his (were they already friends?), but... well. He had earned a little something for how well the last mission had been going, didn’t he?

He slumped against the door of his quarters as soon as it was closed behind him and composed with flying fingers a new message.

 

‘ _Marriage?! You got to be kidding! They did not even_ once _say anything about marrying. You’re pulling my leg, Spock. Right? Right?!_ ’

 

Only after he had gone back to the bridge and gingerly sat himself in his chair, did he realize that he hadn’t answered Spock’s question.

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _Captain Kirk, please calm down. I have, indeed, only been ‘kidding’, as you say. You must surely be aware of the fact that I could not make any sound suggestion as to the mating rituals of a foreign alien tribe of whom I don’t even know the name of. Please forgive me._ ’

 

Kirk was lying on his bunk, staring up at the PADD he was holding over his head and marvelled at the strangeness of his new acquaintance.

After the first bout of laughter over the fact that, yes, he could’ve known better, he had fallen silent and thoughtful, staring at the words displayed innocuously on the screen and trying to envision the creature behind them.

Spock was a total enigma to him. How was it possible for a priest – a Vulcan one at that! – to tease mercilessly one second, only to turn on the spot in the next, innocently begging for forgiveness? Who _was_ Spock?!

He decided for a new tactic. Maybe he would get answers, if he asked more directly?

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _How old are you, anyway? You seem so young for a Vulcan, but maybe it only looked that way because of your robe...’_

_‘I am not entirely sure, what you mean by that, Captain Kirk. This assessment seems highly illogical. Vulcans reproduce just like any other humanoid species and therefore have children and possess a lifecycle not unlike yours. As for my robe – I don’t know why it would make me seem younger. At any rate – I am 29 standard years of age.’_

_‘Oh, so Vulcans reproduce just like humans? I was not sure about that. I thought maybe you_ think _your way into existence.’_

_‘And I thought Starfleet Academy was providing xeno-biology classes, Captain.’_

_‘Yes, but we must’ve skipped the ones about Vulcan sexuality. So – how does it work? It’s not entirely like humans do it, is it?’_

_‘This is highly inappropriate, Captain Kirk.’_

_‘Are you embarrassed? Awww... And call me Jim, will you?’_

_‘I am not ‘embarrassed’. I merely suggested that it is inappropriate, Captain Kirk._ ’

 

At this point in their conversation, Kirk hesitated in his answer. It’s been one week since his departure from Vulcan and he had not anticipated this turn of events. It made him strangely excited to imagine the blushing face of the Vulcan. Even though he was denying it, Kirk was fairly certain that he was embarrassed by his open way of talking about these intimate subjects.

Where was Spock while he read Kirk’s increasingly personal messages?

Was he kneeling in his wide, coal black robe upon the floor of the little temple? The thought was more exciting than he would have thought.

He felt like the snake, corrupting innocent Eve.

Kirk snorted as he realized the turn his thoughts had taken. It obviously was rubbing off on him that he was conversing with a priest.

He decided to give the Vulcan a break and go back on track with his questions. While pondering about what to write, he lazily scrolled through their last exchanges and stopped abruptly at one of the sentences.

‘ _I thought Starfleet Academy was providing xeno-biology classes, Captain._ ’

Huh. Somehow it was strange that the Vulcan would know what was being taught at the Academy. On the other hand, Spock was a clever guy, so maybe it was not totally out of the ordinary.

Kirk stored the information in the back of his mind, made sure that he still had time before he was needed on the bridge, and dived back into his strange conversation with Spock.

 

‘ _So. I’ve noticed that you answer at any hour of the day. Don’t you ever sleep? What is the daily routine of a priest anyway?_ ’

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _Of course I am occasionally sleeping. Vulcans merely require less sleep than humans, Captain. My daily routine is not what one would call ‘exciting’. I enter the temple as soon as the first rays of the suns make themselves apparent. I spend my day meditating and keeping the inner sanctum clean. My day ends as soon as the suns set_.’

 

Kirk was taking his lunch in the mess hall while he read this message, but the spoon with broth never reached his lips. He had suddenly lost his appetite, staring in dismay at the message from his shy friend.

Was that really everything Spock did? Why? He seemed way too intelligent and quirky – for a Vulcan, that was – to be imprisoned in such a dreary way of life.

‘ _You must be so lonely_ ,’ he wrote back, sending it, before he thought better of it. Spock’s answer came, surprisingly enough, a few minutes later.

 

‘ _Could you tell me of some of the experiments your science departments are conducting, Captain Kirk? That is, of course, if you are allowed to_.’

 

Kirk wasn’t surprised in the least to find that his odd friend had not answered to his sympathetic statement.

 

.oOo.

 

One month after his departure from Vulcan...

 

‘ _You can’t expect me to believe that there is a Vulcan festival for_ Kir-alep _in which you are required to wear silly hats!’_

_‘I am gratified to know that you finally start not to believe everything I tell you, Captain. No, there are no such festivities. However, the robe I’m wearing_ is _a traditional robe for Vulcan priests._

_I simply don’t understand your ongoing fascination with my garments, Captain Kirk.’_

_‘I am simply concerned for your welfare, Spock. It has to be incredibly warm, what with the heat of two suns and a heavy, black robe over your other clothes. You’re going to get a heatstroke. And I’ve told you at least 13 times: call me Jim.’_

_’12 times. And who said I was wearing anything under my robe, Jim?_ ’

 

Kirk choked on his mouth full of whiskey and wheezed and coughed while Bones threw him a strange look over the table and Scotty pounded him on his back.

The Captain was staring with watering eyes at the latest message of his little Vulcan priest. While there was a heady rush of blood making its way towards his groin he thought longingly about what he wouldn’t give just to know, if the message had been sent by innocently-honest Spock, or by cheekily-teasing Spock. (And wasn’t it strange that he needed to have this separation in the first place?)

He sunk his face with a groan into his hands, unable to shake the thought of having been right next to Spock while the Vulcan could have been very well utterly naked under his garments...

“Aw damn!” he moaned and did not see the exasperated glance shared by Bones and Scotty.


	4. Chapter 4

‘ _I have further thought about the issue regarding the chemicals, Jim. The reluctance of the substances to bond with one another could stem from the H2O component. Maybe you could forward this issue to your staff?_ ’

 

Kirk sat at his desk, smiling at the message from his friend, although it really was nothing to smile about – to be exact, it was a very dreary subject that did not seem to let go of the inquisitive Vulcan and that had been dominating their conversations for the past two weeks. It was almost three months since the Enterprise’s departure from Vulcan and his conversations with the priest had been a soothing constant in the hectic life of a Starship Captain.

He could not say that their relationship was moving into a direction he would like it to go, but at least they were still in contact and he had the feeling that Spock was genuinely enjoying their exchanges and since he had started getting his nose further into the happenings of the science department and could tell Spock in more detail what was going on, the Vulcan was crawling all over him – not that he was complaining.

To be completely honest, it was kind of cute. He had not been anticipating this explosion of reaction, but suddenly Spock had come crawling out of his hidden depths and hadn’t even called him ‘Captain’ once.

Okay, at least not in a serious context – only when Kirk was trying to flirt with him and the priest was gently guiding him back into his place.

However, the mere fact that Spock was so keenly interested in the happenings of the science department and even coming up with his own theories was kind of... strange. Kirk would not have thought the alien capable of these insights into the scientific happenings. Really – who would have anticipated it? After all his profession was about as far away from science as possible.

He still did know so little of Spock. The Vulcan was fiercely protecting all his little interests, it seemed. He never answered to any of Kirk’s more personal questions and at times it was quite frustrating for the human. However, he did not relent – he would not be James Tiberius Kirk, if he did so – and he collected every little information he could find, like a squirrel seeking for precious nuts.

So far he only knew a few facts, but they were very dear to him, nonetheless:

First, Spock was 29 years of age.

Second, he was a priest for _Kir-alep_.

Third, he had a mind-numbingly dull routine in his job.

Fourth, he was exceptionally intelligent – though he still had to find out where he had managed to amass this vast knowledge.

Fifth, he liked cookies.

Sixth, he had a wicked sense of humour.

Seventh, he could be endearingly shy and innocent at times.

Eighth, he had the most intriguing, chocolate brown eyes Kirk had ever seen.

And last, but definitely not least... he was probably, maybe, by any chance... naked under those robes of his.

Sadly the facts were really scarce, but he was more than willing to work with them...

Kirk grinned, before shaking his head and diving back into the reports he had to read and sign before the start of Gamma-shift.

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _I do not know how you do it, but my Science Officer just came to me and almost kissed me on the bridge. She asked me how I managed to stumble upon the solution for their problem; I had to tell her a little elf told it to me... So I guess your assumption was a full success. Congratulations, Spock! We really need to have a celebratory drink when I’m back on Vulcan. Maybe you can tell me then where you pick those things up? You are incredible. I start to think I’d had a really swell chess opponent in you._

 _I think the brass is slowly pulling us back into more charted territory and the whole crew could use a shore leave. Do you think we could meet on a Starbase in-between?_ ’

 

Kirk’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a moment, before he simply took a deep breath and made a leap of faith.

 

‘ _I kind of miss you, you know._ ’

 

He quickly hit the ‘send’ button, before he could erase the last sentence.

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _I am gratified to know that I have been of help, though I’m not thrilled to be called an elf. Vulcan ancestry really has nothing in common with human fairy-tale creatures. We will celebrate that you have completed every mission highly successfully, Jim. Though I have to apprise you of the fact that Vulcans very rarely imbibe alcoholic substances due to their high metabolism – it does not affect us the way it does you humans. We could try our hands at a chess game, if you’d like; I have to confess that I am quite... intrigued._ ’

 

Jim was not surprised to find that Spock had not said anything about the Enterprise’s return or the offer to meet and he had already known that the little priest would not react to his last sentence. However, it did not keep him from feeling disappointed...

 

.oOo.

 

Their amount of sent messages started to increase exponentially. Often times they only consisted of ‘Rook to F7’ or ‘Queen to H2’, but Kirk’s heart was pounding excitedly every time he saw the blinking symbol.

It was four months since he had last seen Spock and he caught himself more than once lying on his bunk and playing with the necklace from his first successful mission, staring at the depths of the brown orb and trying to picture the soulful eyes of a Vulcan. Eyes that had been crinkling at their corners so endearingly every time Spock wanted to smile, but forbade it to himself.

 

.oOo.

 

Kirk was sitting behind his desk, his head tipped far back and staring at the ceiling. He was a very enthusiastic being and loved his life, but even he had sometimes phases in which he was feeling down and just... hollow. And most of the days he got over these rough patches by hiding away in his rooms and drinking himself into a stupor, until the bad day ended and a shining new one began. This time, however, the stupor simply would not take hold of him and he felt even more miserable than before, because his head was spinning and he felt like he was about to throw up, but he had no inclination of standing and wobbling to his bathroom.

He was contemplating why he was finding no respite, until his bleary eyes caught hold of an innocently blinking symbol at his computer screen.

Kirk slouched forward and started typing.

 

.oOo.

 

The next day, when he woke up with his face plastered to the keyboard and his mouth tasting like something had crawled inside and died, he was not sure what had happened and only when he had used the facilities and was brushing his teeth while staring bleary eyed at his reflection, did the memory suddenly rush back and made him choke on the toothpaste in his mouth.

“Oh no! Oh no, no, no!” he stuttered indistinctly, spitting the foam hectically into the basin and rinsing his mouth while he bounced on the balls of his feet in agitation.

He was still praying that he was only imagining having written the message, while he hectically rounded his desk and sat heavily down in his chair.

His stomach knotted into a hot, little stone of pain, when he saw the blinking symbol that told him of an answer from Spock. However... an answer to _what_? With trepidation Kirk clicked on his sent messages, moaning in utter mortification when he saw the last one he had sent to his friend at 0240.

 

‘ _Spock. I’m utterly drunk. I’m kind of proud of myself for still being able to type, though. I don’t even know what to say, right now. I feel like shit at the moment and have no clue why that is. Bones said, that I simply need to get laid again – but I don’t know. Haven’t had the urge to do someone for quite some time. Now that I think about it, it_ is _kind of strange for me._

 _But you don’t want to talk about that, do you? You never answer to my flirting, or you say ‘Captain Kirk, that is inappropriate’. I always picture you being all flustered and flushed green. You’re cute, did you know that? So cute and I so want to flirt with you and you always block me... I don’t even know why I’m trying so hard. It’s not like there weren’t pretty women throwing themselves at my feet, you know? Because there_ are _! But they don’t look as innocent in a huge black robe. At least I guess. Haven’t seen them in any. Huh..._

 _And that black robe... You told me you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Do you remember that? I sure do! Damn, I’ve been fantasizing about that since... ah... You know, Spock, I really enjoy our conversations. You’re so smart and kind and well-spoken. I simply don’t know, why you waste your life in that stupid, little temple-thingy. To be honest, I don’t know_ anything _about you. That is... nothing that would answer me any_ questions _, you know? You are an enigma. You really have no right to be so sweet and innocent and totally alien. Do you know how this was supposed to go?_

 _It was supposed to be me – the big Starship Captain, sweeping you off of your feet and marvelling in your adoration. And instead it’s just the other way round. You can bring a guy to his knees with at least two galaxies between you and me! It would be_ terrifying _to see you handle a Klingon ship. You’d handle it with ease, I’m sure._

_I’d take you onboard the Enterprise any time. Even if only to have you near me... I really want to meet you again, you know – but I’m kind of afraid of the time after. I don’t think I could simply walk away again like the last time. We don’t know each other any better than when we have last met, but still somewhere along the lines something has monumentally shifted._

_I miss you, Spock. I’m really sorry if that makes you uncomfortable... You don’t really like talking about that stuff, do you? I guess that’s because you’re a Vulcan. And a priest. Maybe. You a virgin? ... are you blushing again now? Are you embarrassed? Or would you tell me again that you don’t get ‘embarrassed’?_

_Ugh... have to go now... Think I’ll throw uppppp_

_Back again. What was I talking about? I don’t know anymore. Lost my train of thought. Horse to G4. Check._

 

Kirk was staring for a long time at the message. It wasn’t really ordered. It simply was a stream of his thoughts that he had typed out – and unfortunately sent to Spock. The Captain scarcely felt the hands he had clasped unbelievably tight in his lap and realized with dismay his utter reluctance to click upon the answer from Spock.

His friend could be shy and gentle, yes, but he could also be very frank, if he really disliked something and Kirk had the feeling he had gone _way_ overboard with this message. For a few seconds he fancied that Spock may have never read the whole thing, because it breached the comfort zones of the Vulcan very fast. Would he rebuke him? Retrieve his friendship? Say a last goodbye?

Kirk groaned and buried his face in his hands. He did not have much time to wallow in self-pity, though; Alpha-shift would begin in half an hour.

He straightened his spine, taking a deep breath and clicked on the answer. The first thing he saw was, how short it was. It made everything in him seize up, but he forced himself to read.

 

‘ _The thought to have caused you dismay in such a magnitude is... unsettling. I am deeply sorry to have caused you so much distress, I was not aware of your need for information. I am, somewhat – inexperienced in dealing with humans and their emotional needs, as you may have surmised by now. I would... like to give you answers. In time._

 _I moved the horse to G4, however, it does not put my king into ‘check’. Bishop to A3. Checkmate, Jim._ ’

 

And on the very bottom, there was another little sentence. It reminded Kirk of the very first message Spock had sent him and again, he had the nagging feeling that Spock had put it there in hopes he wouldn’t see it.

 

‘ _I miss you as well, my friend._ ’

 

Kirk felt for the rest of the day as if his chest was about to explode from all the fuzzy and warm feelings balled inside of it.

.oOo.

 

‘ _I am sorry, I don’t have the credits to take a shuttle off planet. Also I don’t feel confident in venturing so far off. I have never left Vulcan before._ ’

 

Kirk stared at the message, lost in thought.

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _Spock, the Enterprise will be docking on Starbase 13 in about one week. We’ll have shore leave for at least two weeks – maybe more, depending on the brass. I’ll be hunting down a shuttle ride to Vulcan as soon as possible._

_Expect me to knock on your door.’_

_‘Understood. I... look forward to it. Jim._ ’

 

Kirk flushed with pride and excitement, his belly tingling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SOOOO much for the reviews x3 I'm squeeing like a dumbass, over here LOL


	5. Chapter 5

The heat on Vulcan was on these last hours of the day the most oppressive, Kirk realized, while he strolled through ShiKahr with his duffel bag slung over his back. His loose, bright blue shirt was sticking under his armpits and on his back between the shoulder blades and he had to wipe with the back of his hand more often than he cared to count over his forehead.

When the first sun finally crawled over the edge of the horizon, he let out a relieved sigh. It would slowly start to cool down now he hoped and quickened his steps, eager to find a way out of the streets of the city, where the heat of the day had gathered and made the air so thick that Kirk was sure he could grab it in one hand, if he wasn’t too lazy to move more than strictly necessary.

He knew of the strange looks the Vulcan population was throwing him; humans weren’t often seen on the planet and especially not ones in their leisure wear. Vulcan was no tourist attraction and the Captain of the Enterprise wouldn’t have chosen the arid planet for his first shore leave either, hadn’t it been for the tantalizing prospect of one special Vulcan, who was probably still engulfed in his small temple, since the second sun was still up and producing heat.

Kirk swapped the duffel bag from one shoulder to the other and cursed the fact that the shuttle bay was on the exact opposite ending of ShiKahr. However, he could use the exercise well; it helped him to wrestle his excitement down, hopefully making him suave and cool by the time he reached the inner sanctum. Spock probably would not be very impressed, if Kirk just ran up to him and drew him into a manly bear hug.

“Finally!” the human wheezed, when he stepped out of the last alley and was standing between two of the few little homes, huddling together on the outskirts of the large city. One of them was Spock’s. He looked around,while his feet took him towards the entrance to _Kir-alep’s_ temple, trying in vain to make out, if one of the buildings was somehow... extraordinary; somehow he thought despite better knowledge, that he would be able to make the Vulcan’s home out by some little indication... however, they all looked the same as far as he was concerned and he gave his futile effort up in favour of quickening his steps again.

Spock had been asking a lot during the past week, when exactly Kirk would be arriving, but the Captain had refused to answer in precision; he suspected that he had annoyed the Vulcan a lot with his avoidance, though Spock had not said so. It only lend to his amusement, though, since he wanted to surprise his friend.

So when he stepped inside the hallway, he forbade himself to sigh overly loud in relief over the fact that the cool air from inside was drafting about his person, so as to not alert his unsuspecting prey of his presence and started stealthily making his way over well-worn stone and through nearly impenetrable darkness. He had to guide himself with one hand on the wall, so he would not run into the stone, where the path made a sudden turn – wouldn’t do to break his nose; would really not look _nearly_ as sexy as he would like it – and a slow, easy grin spread across his face when he saw at the end of the tunnel the flickering light of torches and the entrance towards the tiny, inner sanctum of the temple.

And, as he realized after a few seconds, he could also see a figure kneeling right in front of the smiling statue, encased in a pool of unrelenting black, the cowl pulled up over his bowed head. Spock.

Kirk closed his eyes for a moment, fighting down his urge to bounce on the balls of his feet in giddy excitement, before gingerly setting his duffel bag down on the ground and making his way inside the room. A strange smell was lingering in the air; it was spicy and warm and tickled his nostrils, while causing him to slowly relax. The space was not silent – it was filled with a dark, soothing rumbling and it took the Captain an embarrassing amount of time to realize that the rumbling was coming from Spock. He was talking.

Slowly, the grin faded from Kirk’s face, his lips closing, while his forehead creased with a slight frown. The little hair on his arms started standing up against the eerie atmosphere in the room. He wanted to say something, but could not bring himself to alert Spock to his presence, so he slowly stepped closer towards the kneeling figure in hopes of easing him out of his reverie with his mere proximity; however, even when standing right next to the Vulcan, did he not budge.

Kirk could see a shallow bowl to the feet of _Kir-alep_ , where a bundle of strange, blue herbs were glimmering and a white smoke gently curled up – probably the source of the compelling smell permeating the air. He could not entirely see Spock’s face due to the cowl drawn over his head – to be exact, he could only see the tip of the long nose peek out of the shadows. Long, slender hands were grasped loosely in front of the chest.

From this new position, he could hear, what Spock was saying.

 

_Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans._

_Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time._

_Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery._

_But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;_

_And everywhere life is full of heroism._

_Be yourself._

_Especially, do not feign affection._

_Neither be critical about love; for the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass._

 

Kirk held his breath, something in his throat closing up. Spock suddenly fell silent; the abrupt lack of the constant whispering seemed daring in the little space. The two were frozen for an indistinguishable amount of time, until the Vulcan finally unclasped his hands and let them sink down upon his lap while rotating his head. Kirk could just make out the glimmer of dark eyes as they looked up at him out of the darkness from the cowl.

He felt so very strange right now. Yes of course; he had known that Spock was a clergyman. He had also asked about his habits – but somehow seeing him actually doing... what... praying? It was... yeah. Strange.

The Captain stared down at the still kneeling Vulcan, before slowly raising one hand and grasping the edge of the cowl. He could hear a silently hissed intake of breath from the alien, before he shoved his hand under the fabric, his fingers gliding into silky, straight hair, while his forearm gently brushed the impeding garment out of the way.

And there he was – Spock, staring up at him with those strangely emotional eyes, slanted eyebrows seemingly trying to climb into his fringe, while Kirk marvelled at the fact that even his golden-tanned hand looked shockingly pale against the stark black of severely cut hair. He started to flush when he realized he was touching Spock for the first time, but, encouraged by the fact that the Vulcan hadn’t pulled back yet or scolded him for his trespassing, slid his had slowly down, cupping the side of the face and brushing with the calloused pad of his thumb across one high, exotic cheekbone. Spock closed his left eye reflexively as if afraid the digit would harm him, but still did not move away.

“Hello, Jim,” he said at last; it sounded so neat and proper, not like he was kneeling on the floor, being petted by a quasi-stranger.

And just like that – Kirk found his equilibrium back by hearing his name spoken by that baritone voice. His lips slowly stretched into a delicious grin and he pulled his hand back in order to offer it the alien to assist him in getting up.

“Hey, Spock!” he exclaimed exuberant, practically vibrating in his happiness to finally stand inside this temple with this strange Vulcan again, after so many months. Dark, chocolate brown eyes were slowly drifting towards the offered hand and there was a long lull in their interaction, in which Kirk thought Spock would decline his assistance like he had done previously; however, he was surprised by one long, slender hand being placed very carefully inside his.

He scarcely had time to marvel at the sheer _heat_ being radiated from the long digits, before they closed strongly around his hand, reminding him briefly of the fact that, yes, this creature was _way_ stronger than he was.

The Captain’s grin broadened when he pulled Spock into a standing position and refused to back down, although their chests were now almost touching. They were nearly of the same height, staring at one another, before the Vulcan raised one eyebrow and slowly let go of the human hand, taking a step back and looking away – towards the glimmering grass in the shallow bowl.

Kirk watched as Spock put the glimmer out and could not refrain from still grinning like a maniac, for Spock could not hide the fact that his cheeks had suffused with an endearing, lime green blush.

Kirk stepped closer towards the statue and the rummaging Vulcan, his chest feeling like a balloon was inside and had no intention to stop expanding. It was almost suffocating.

“Are you happy that I’m here?” he blurted suddenly and felt a rush of warmth suffuse his cheeks as the Vulcan shoulders turned rigid and long, slender hands hesitated in their work.

‘Way to be cool and suave, Kirk,’ he moaned internally and cleared his throat.

“A-anyway. I have a few things planned for the duration of my shore leave and I have all intention to take you along with it,” he hastily continued, slipping back into familiar territory – arrogant charm.

The tension seemed to meld out of Spock again and finally he stopped mucking around with the leafs and turned around in order to face the human. The colour of his cheeks, Kirk noted, had almost returned to normal. Only right in front of the pointed ears, almost hidden by severely cut sideburns, was the lime green still apparent.

“Before we start on these... plans, maybe you wish to change out of these clothes and retire for the night?” Spock intoned, dark eyes travelling from the large, dark spots under Kirk’s arms towards the front of the shirt, where the red sand from Vulcan was more than apparent. Kirk looked down, taking in his attire for the first time after throwing it haphazardly on, and grimaced.

“Yes, I think that would be great.”

 

They walked silently next to one another. Kirk had shouldered his duffel bag once more and earned himself a raised eyebrow from his companion for his efforts – however, there was none of the witty commentary he would have expected. Spock was, to be quite frank, as quiet as a church mouse; almost timid in the way he trudged next to the swaggering Captain.

Kirk watched him out of the corner of his eyes, wondering what was wrong with his friend. Alright, he had already known that his reticent Vulcan priest wasn’t likely to throw his arms around the human’s neck and dissolve into giddy giggles, but he would have at least anticipated... he was not sure what. But at least _something_.

Halfway across the stretch of dry land between the temple’s entrance and the little houses, he got aware of short, surreptitious glances being thrown his way under dark eyelashes; and just when it was clear which of the huddled houses they were making a beeline for, did it hit the Captain. Spock was _nervous_.

He was, for all intents and purposes, shocked into silence, walking more and more like a robot, the closer they got to his home – which looked, by the way, just like everyone else’s.

When they came to a stop in front of the innocuous looking door and Spock just stood there, staring at the wood and making no move to open it, Kirk took a deep breath and swivelled his upper body around, so he was leaning between Spock and the door and could gaze into the pale face.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” he asked, pitching his mellifluous voice low and – as he hoped – sympathetic. Only because he was looking directly into the dark, brown eyes, did he register the sudden, almost violent dilation of the pitch-black pupils. Somehow he had the feeling that he had startled the Vulcan out of something, although the face was as inscrutable and aloof as ever. Spock remained silent, just staring at Kirk, stiff like a tin soldier.

“You... freaking out or something?” Kirk tentatively asked, his dark-blond eyebrows climbing towards his hairline. He slowly let his bag down to the ground and wedged himself fully between Spock and the door, contemplating for a moment to put his hands upon the Vulcan’s shoulders. Said Vulcan seemed to finally snap out of whatever mental recesses he had fled into, shaking his head in denial and drawing his slanted eyebrows together.

“No. I am not ‘freaking out’,” he said with great dignity. His eyes slowly shifted away from Kirk and looked up towards the roof of the house and then into the blackness of space above. The second sun had long vanished by now and only the light of the million of stars was providing a dubious visual assistance. Kirk had never before realized just how much cool, silver light the moon on earth was providing.

Spock’s pale skin seemed to glow subtly and Kirk floundered for a moment, before finally enlightenment struck and he whispered, “Have you ever had company in your home?”

Something in the Vulcan’s face shifted, before he slowly shook his head, stopped, considered something and nodded.

“Only my... only one person. Shortly.”

Kirk nodded his understanding and then grinned.

“Hey. Don’t you worry. When you’ve spent months in space, _everything_ is luxurious for you,” he said, trying to lighten up the mood. Spock’s eyes snapped finally down from the sky and towards Kirk – and at last his eyes crinkled at the corners and he said, “I can imagine. You seem like the kind of person, who would not heed the regulation of safely storing your belongings and instead throw everything where you wish to in your quarters.”

With that, the priest ducked past the Captain, opening the door to his home. Kirk was blinking for the fraction of a second at the formerly occupied spot, before his brain kicked back in and he roared, “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?! ‘That kind of person’? _What_ kind are we talking about?”

 

Spock’s house was sparsely furnished; however, it seemed only fitting for the quiet priest with the dry sense of humour. Spock led him through a short, clean hallway, showing him a neat kitchen as well as an open living room. They climbed some stairs into the upper part of the house and the Vulcan left him alone in his meticulously clean bath with the remark that he would be waiting downstairs.

There was a strange atmosphere around them. Kirk felt as awkward as a teenager again, having been thrown off his game by the shy creature. However, as soon as he stepped into the living room and caught sight of the Vulcan kneeling at a low table, no longer surrounded by the stark, black robes, but encased in an airy assemble of white linen shirt and trousers, Kirk started to decidedly feel at ease.

When he drew his arms out of their hiding place behind his back, presented the Vulcan with a box of cookies and saw the softening of severe features as well as the crinkling in the corners of his eyes – everything seemed alright once more. Different – more intimate, more personal, more... committed – but alright.

 

“I had concluded the basic Vulcan education ahead of most in my class when I was 19 standard years of age. Due to my exceptional grades, I’ve had been offered a place in the Vulcan Science Academy. However, a... misunderstanding and the simple fact that my interests lay elsewhere, caused me to decline the position and enrol in Starfleet Academy in San Francisco.”

Spock fell silent, looking at the plate full of cookies standing on the table. Kirk sat right next to him, his legs messily folded in front of him and intently listening to the halting story of his friend.

‘He wanted to enrol in the Academy... that would explain his interest in everything Ship-related,’ he thought, slightly shifting his position and scratching at a non-existent stain on the table’s surface.

“What happened?” he asked. Spock’s slim nostrils flared, when he pulled in a deep breath.

“My intended dissolved our bond.”

Kirk stiffened where he was sitting, staring at Spock in mute horror, before he croaked, “You are _married_?!”

Slanted, black eyebrows drew upwards and Spock shook his head emphatically.

“No, as I’ve said – T’Pring, my intended bondmate, had asked the high counsel to dissolve our betrothal-bond after I declined my place in the Vulcan Science Academy. She had been barely tolerating me as it was, but my decision to work on a Space Ship seemed to have been... too much to bear for her.” Spock’s voice was low, barely audible, while he slowly curled long, slender hands into tight fists and his shoulders tightened with his barely restrained agitation.

Kirk could not have said that he entirely understood what was going on, but...

“She had been ‘barely tolerating’ you? What do you mean?”

“I am a hybrid, Jim. I am half Vulcan and half human. She was disgusted by my mind and she loathed being bound to it.” The Vulcan was turning his shoulders slightly around, so Kirk was no longer able to look into his face. When Spock talked again, his voice was eerily calm, “I did not entirely relish to be shackled to her, to be honest. I constantly felt her ire radiating through the bond and it was quite overwhelming for most of the time. I had been quite relieved for a time when the counsel decided to accede to her demands; however, I had not realized the profound way the bond had been grounding me. When it was dissolved, I...”

Spock’s shoulders trembled for a moment, before they sunk down low. Kirk had troubles swallowing, his stomach tightening unbearably, while he listened to the utter rejection in the dark voice. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward, until his chin was resting on his chest when Spock started talking again.

“I have way fewer bonds than most Vulcans. My family isn’t big and therefore are the bonds I _do_ have essential for my well-being. After my betrothal bond had been dissolved, I... had not been able to do even the simplest tasks for a long time. I practically had to learn the most essential techniques from the very beginning again.”

“And that’s why you’re doing the work of someone no longer needed? But you’re so _intelligent_ , Spock. Why don’t you finally go to Starfleet like you had intended to?” Kirk said fiercely. Spock slowly stood and walked a few steps from side to side. The human watched the slender figure – long, graceful limbs under loose clothes – until the Vulcan confided, “I can’t. Not alone.”

“But you _are_ not alone, Spock! You have _me_!” the Captain exclaimed, his eyebrows drawn together in a stormy expression. The priest halted in his tracks and gazed at Kirk, deep sadness in his unfathomable eyes. Spock moved suddenly, bowing low and curling his fingers around Kirk’s wrist, pulling him gently up towards his feet.

The human’s mouth went absolutely dry and he could feel the hot press of every single finger upon his flesh. He was being guided out into the hallway and up the stairs, staring wondrously at the black cap of hair.

Somewhere on the stairway, Spock’s hand slid further down and their fingers gingerly entwined.

They walked down the hallway on the first floor and the Vulcan opened a door, pulling Kirk with him inside.

For a ludicrous second the human fancied his shy companion had brought him into his bedroom, until he saw – it was his study. And _what_ a study it was.

The room with the slanted ceiling was _covered_ in written papers and data-chips. On the ceiling were numerous star-charts and out of the window in the ceiling was a telescope protruding, pointed at the sky.

“In the nights, when I’m no longer doing my duties, I’m here and studying everything I can get my hands on...” Spock whispered.

Kirk stared around, his mouth slightly open, totally fascinated by the sheer messiness of the room after the almost clinical neatness of the rest of the house. This room spoke of _passion_ and _fire_ and _dedication_. He walked along the walls and stared at the papers on which mathematical calculations, chemical reactions and other brainy stuff was scribbled down haphazardly in the way of someone, who was excited about a subject.

When the Captain turned around at last and looked upon the slender alien standing at the door, trying very much not to look so utterly uncomfortable, he sighed exasperatedly.

“Was _this_ the reason you’ve been so nervous? Did you think I would... what... laugh? Or belittle you?” he asked. Spock merely lowered his head ever so slightly and stared at the floor. Kirk scoffed and looked around again, before saying silently, but with utter conviction, “You do realize that I won’t let you go back to the temple, don’t you? Not after this. You are _wasted_ there and I won’t allow it. When these two weeks are up, I will have convinced you to accompany me.”

He could only see the vivid green flush in the tips of pointed ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spock's prayer is called 'Desiderata'; Leonard Nimoy once had it recorded under the title of 'Spock's thoughts' and it really is absolutely fitting in my opinion :)
> 
> Next chapter: the rating starts to kick in a little bit ^.^ the story is going to get steamier :D are you excited? whoop whoop whoop!


	6. Chapter 6

“I doubt Starfleet would want a 29 year old Vulcan priest, who has only the most basic education,” Spock said stubbornly towards the floor. Kirk raised his eyebrows.

“Wait – with ‘most basic education’ you’re referring to _Vulcan_ standards, right? The standards in which a child most likely knows more than me?” he asked and his lips curled slowly upwards when a quick glance from under dark eyelashes was thrown his way and the corners of oh-so-human eyes started to crinkle mischievously as if to say ‘well, that is not that hard now, is it, Jim?’.

‘You naughty, little...’ Kirk marvelled, stepping towards the priest, but was ultimately halted by Spock shaking his head in refusal.

“You are merely one Captain. You do not make the rules – you can not decide whether I’ll be accepted or not. And – purely theoretically speaking – even if I _were_ to be accepted, I’d have to go through the same academic notions as everybody else, meaning I’d have to face an education at the Academy of at least three years and...”

“You’ve thought this already through, eh?” Kirk said, taking another step that brought him right before the slender alien, who refused to look his way, his head still lowered and perusing the floor as if it was holding the answers of the universe.

The blush that had been slowly receding, was coming back with a vengeance and from this proximity Kirk could tell that the tips of exotically pointed ears were of a most endearing forest green now.

“Of course I have thought of it. Once or twice. However, I disregarded the notion quickly when it became apparent that my condition would render me unable to do anything for quite a while,” the Vulcan said with great dignity and finally raised his head again, although slightly turned away and fixing a spot right next to Kirk’s ear. The lazy smile that had been spreading sensual human lips was growing larger.

“Uh huh... Once or twice. Right,” he said, stepping that tiny step closer and almost chuckling when the Vulcan made a step back in answer. He could see an unbelievably fast pulse thrum in Spock’s neck and wondered, if he could make a hickey as dark green as the blush on Spock’s ears.

“Affirmative, _Captain Kirk_. Would you refrain from discussing this subject now? It is highly illogical,” the priest was now saying with great dignity and with the stilted speech, which Kirk had recognized early on, was his default defence mechanism in rebuffing Kirk’s more amorous moods. Utterly fascinated, the Captain watched as his Vulcan companion straightened his spine and brought his hands together in front of his stomach, where he folded them in something that looked startlingly like a prayer. Kirk knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind that Spock probably only used this gesture unthinkingly and in order to not let his hands shake, but nonetheless it struck a cord inside him.

To think that this man had been a priest for almost 10 years now – living alone in this house, being so endearingly proper and _innocent_ , made a strange, primal urge bubble up from deep in his gut, burning with an intensity that made him almost sway for a moment. It was a disconcerting feeling of partly wanting to protect this innocence and partly wanting to strip the white, linen garments from the lean body and spread him out in the middle of this study room – Spock’s refuge – and feast on this innocence; defile it and rob it and carry it home into the deepest recesses of his mind where he would be able to guard it jealously.

In the end, he acted upon a mix out of the two, making another, deliberate step towards Spock and causing the man to retreat until his shoulders were almost touching the paper-covered wall behind him. He raised his right hand, bracing it steadily and with calm confidence right next to Spock’s head, leaning in, until his breath started to mingle with that of the surprised alien. The face of the priest was still aloof, but the pupils of his fathomless eyes were dilated until he almost could not make out the soft, brown irises.

“Captain, what – “

“You don’t think that I’d be letting you go again, do you, Spock? _Rules_ , you say? I bend them. I _annihilate_ them. The higher ups will have to _take_ you,” here he closed the last of the gap between them, pressing their chests as well as their stomachs intimately together; he could feel the unbelievably fast thrum of the alien heart in his own side, “if they don’t want me to be a giant pain in the ass. And they will _know_ I’m serious, you can count on that. They will let you take a test and you can impress them with that giant fucking _brain_ of yours and then _I_ am going to take you,” his voice lowered into an intimate whisper; he could feel the vibrations rumble through his chest into the one of the Vulcan and a delicious surge of arousal spiked through him as previously pale cheeks suffused with a vivid blush while slanted eyebrows simultaneously drew together, “and I’m going to make you my First Officer. Because _fuck them_ , that’s why.”

Expressive, dark eyes – _human_ eyes, Kirk finally knew – were slightly narrowing and Spock ground out with the barest vibration in his voice, “This won’t be possible, Captain. All of it _sounds_ quite agreeable, but you have to realize that this is only a dream out of a human fairy tale. The real world does not work this way. It does not let individuals of no education and prior references be the First Officer on a Starship. And it does not give the Captain of one of these Ships the authority to convince those of higher rank otherwise. This is simply not how the universe operates, Jim.”

A set of cool human lips pressed all of a sudden intimately against hot Vulcan ones, effectively silencing the agitated breath of the alien and causing Spock’s eyes to snap impossibly wide. He jerked his head backwards; however, a mere centimetre behind his head was the wall and so it was no hardship for the Captain to surge forward again and claim that delectable mouth once more, because it only had been uttering – to Kirk’s ears – a constant plea of ‘Please make it true, Please take me with you, Please don’t let me waste away on this planet’.

The hand, which had been braced against the wall right next to Spock’s head, was now burying its fingers into dark, silky strands, while the other hand was gripping an upper arm and digging fingers into the pliant flesh. He could feel lean muscles bunching underneath, quivering in their indecision to remain placid or start fighting against the grip – and all of a sudden, the Captain realized: Spock wanted this. He was no innocent victim, being molested by the human, but an active – if inexperienced – participant.

The Vulcan _had_ the strength to overpower his assailant; he _had_ the presence of mind to decide whether he wanted this or not; he just had decided not to act on it.

Kirk moaned with this heady thought, trying all the more valiantly to entice the priest into opening his lips and letting the cool, slippery tongue of the Captain into the hot, moist cavern of his mouth.

Kirk could feel long, slender hands slowly creep up his tight stomach towards his chest where they curled into the loose fabric of his shirt while the pliant lips under his hesitatingly opened up.

‘Yesss.’ The indistinct thought wobbled through his head. He tilted his it a little more to the right in order to slant his lips more precisely over the hot mouth of the priest. From this angle he could lap against sharp edges of perfect, white teeth and the surprisingly rough surface of the tongue behind.

The smell of Spock – hot and spicy and sunny – invaded his nostrils and soon pervaded his very being. Sizzling thrums of electricity rushed from the point of contact - where the uneducated tongue was slowly rubbing against his own and mimicking his actions - down to where his cock was starting to take a definite interest in the proceedings.

Thoughts of, ‘Illogical. This can’t work.’ were drifting lazily through Kirk’s mind and somehow he was sure that they hadn’t been his own.

The hand that had been previously shoved into the neat cap of black hair was drifting a little so his calloused fingers could trace the heated cartilage of one pointed ear. While he gingerly fondled the tip, Kirk shoved his muscular left thigh between Spock’s legs, rubbing up against the groin of his friend. The action startled the shy creature into a deep, husky moan, teasing Kirk’s cock into pressing against the hipbone of the Vulcan.

Their tongues were lapping against one another in an increasingly more messy and frantic and utterly satisfying way. The Captain was marvelling at the nervous energy radiating from the shy creature pinned against the wall, causing Spock to practically vibrate. Kirk grinned into the kiss, bend on driving the Vulcan insane. He started making small, undulating movements with his hips, causing the priest to emit the most delicious, little mewling noises; until the hands curled hectically in his shirt suddenly flattened out and pressed gently but insistently against the broad pectoral muscles.

Kirk would have, to be honest, disregarded this and moved on to shove the hand not fondling a heated ear, underneath the loose fabric of Spock’s shirt, hadn’t it been for the superior Vulcan strength prohibiting him from being less than chivalrous.

For a moment only heavy panting was to be heard and Kirk’s eyes opened in order to stare blearily upon glistening, green tinged lips and a flushed face, certain that his own cheeks were red tinged and tingling with the excess infusion of blood.

“What...?” he mumbled indistinctly and his throat tightened as eyes crinkled at the corners and one hand patted his chest in a patronising manner that seemed only too fitting for the highly intelligent Vulcan.

“I need to breath sometimes, Jim,” Spock was now saying, his voice deep and husky and making horribly wonderful things to his quivering testicles. The Captain needed an inordinate amount of time, until his usually formidable brain was kicking back into gear and he understood what his little priest – yes, _his_ ; he would make Spock realize that soon enough – had been saying.

He felt his face flush with a totally different kind of heat and cleared his throat while taking one step back.

“Oh...” he said lamely and clumsily tried smoothing the black cap of hair back into some semblance of neatness – however, he failed largely at it and the dishevelled look really should not be looking so gorgeous on the Vulcan.

“... for tomorrow,” he heard Spock saying now and realized that the Vulcan had been speaking, while Kirk was totally zoned out.

“Uh... huh?” Kirk asked, forcing his attention back onto the here and now and trying to ignore the painful pinch of his trousers upon his engorged genitalia. Dark eyes were looking right at him – wasn’t it neat to be of almost the same height? – and the tentative trust in them was humbling.

“What did you have in mind for our day tomorrow?” the Vulcan repeated patiently. He had his breath under control again and it was kind of disheartening to see him seemingly so unaffected from their bout of heavy petting from just moments prior. Had it not been nice for the alien? Did he not enjoy it?

Kirk frowned, looking into the soft eyes. He noticed them twitching down once, ever so slightly, obviously taking in the prominent bulge in the Captain’s trousers and in response starting to flush again into that endearingly green colour.

Kirk – confidence restored – started grinning with his usual swagger and confidence.

“That’s... a surprise,” he said and was enjoying the annoyed huffing of his friend with fiendish glee.

“You shouldn’t be expecting your normal, absolutely boring routine, though,” Kirk continued with a smug air. The Vulcan’s eyes narrowed and he slipped out of the space between Kirk and the wall, looking about the room intently as if searching for something, until the Captain realized that his friend was at a loss for words right now.

“I don’t know, if that is such a good idea, Jim,” Spock said at last. Kirk raised his eyebrows.

“What – to slip out of your routine?” he asked surprised. The priest raised his shoulders for a little fraction, until quickly aborting the gesture and blurting out almost aggressively, “Yes... no... It’s... _Everything_ seems to be no good idea. They are... _dangerous_ thoughts.”

Kirk marvelled at the strange way his usually very eloquent Vulcan suddenly struggled to express what he wanted to say and... he had never thought Spock could be aggressive. The human, however, was not to be deterred. Yes, he was swaggering and arrogant and usually bent the rules, until he was satisfied with them – but he wasn’t in the position of a Captain for nothing.

He was _smart_ and he could look _through_ people. However, he was not certain if Spock knew how utterly see-through he was in this moment.

The Vulcan was afraid of leaving his routine, because it would make him start hoping, thinking, _believing_. It would force him into trusting Kirk and depend on another person after he had been utterly brought to the ground by his fiancée.

The human grinned crookedly and walked towards the Vulcan, turning him around by his shoulders and leaning forward in order to place a lingering kiss upon green lips – nibbling with moist suction on the bottom lip and rubbing his broad hands up and down the upper arms of his friend.

When he carefully pulled back and gazed into the Vulcan’s face, he smiled at the slightly dreamy expression on the face.

“Don’t worry so much. We have two weeks in order to arrange a plan of action. We’re smart guys, are we not?” he whispered and raised his eyebrows upon seeing doubt clouding Spock’s expression. When the alien opened his lips in order to say something, he quickly pre-empted him.

“Don’t you worry, Spock!” he said insistently and shook him by the grip on his shoulders once insistently. “We’ll figure everything out. _E-very-thing_.”

He gazed into uncertain, large eyes and cupped the face of the priest, rubbing his thumbs once over exotic, high cheek bones. Kirk could not refrain from grinning when he saw Spock squirm ever-so-slightly at the bodily contact the alien so obviously was not accustomed to and thought, ‘We’ll figure everything out. And not only the work stuff, you know...’

He let his hands drop down and winked at the dismayed looking Spock, before sauntering out of the study, leaving Spock to a night of –undoubtedly – fretting about everything that formidable brain of his could only think of.

Kirk could not help him with that unfortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the reviews :) I really enjoy your enthusiastic responses <3
> 
> I'm kind of looking forward to your reaction to the next chapter... it is one of my favourites, if not THE favourite :D hnnnghh <3


	7. Chapter 7

Kirk woke up sprawled on the low, dark couch in Spock’s living room; a thin blanket was spread over his prone body – not because he needed the warmth, but because he was simply used to sleep with one protective layer over his person and this was thin enough as to not suffocate him in the dry, hot climate of Vulcan.

He felt rested and very good – which was not surprising, because he had been able to sleep as long as he desired without being in need to wake up and go to the Alpha shift; although he _had_ woken at the designated time simply through muscle memory.

The Captain slowly turned on his side and stretched luxuriously, while lazily going through the options for the day. However, his train of thought derailed slightly when he caught sight of a platter full of exotic looking fruits on the low table in front of him. A certain sign that Spock was already up and about and had been looking out for him.

The human grinned and gingerly sat up, while gazing at the clock. Well, it probably was no surprise to find that the Vulcan was already awake. He had, after all, said that he was in the temple as soon as the first light of the two suns started brightening the sky.

And now that Kirk had seen Spock’s secret study, he could venture a good guess as to how this had come about. The thought of the Priest standing nightly in his study, gazing at the constellations seen by night or working at all his theoretical tests – at tests from the _Enterprise_ , Kirk realized with a start – made his heart simultaneously swell and crumble, it seemed.

Was the Vulcan really spending night after night in there, only separating from his work when the brightness of two suns made the stars and planets disappear? When did he find rest to sleep?

Kirk pondered all of this, while drawing the plate with fruit upon his lap. He nibbled with a certain amount of hesitation on a few that looked palatable for a human – although he was pretty convinced Spock had ensured nothing toxic was being presented to him.

Fruits weren’t exactly what he would call a breakfast and they did little to slake his hunger, but they were juicy and sweet and made it so he was not thirsty anymore and felt a rush of energy course through his body as soon as his system started to break down the fruit sugar.

The human got up from his nightly sleeping area, stretched languorously once more and made his way through the little house in search for his host. Spock was not in the kitchen, nor was he in the bathroom or his study. The last room Kirk checked - the depressingly bare and ascetic looking bedroom - wasn’t occupied either, so there was only one option where his undercover-scientist had fled to.

The Captain moaned, rubbed his rough hands over his face and went grumbling into the bathroom in order to make himself presentable, before he dragged Spock back out of his hidey-hole.

 

Kirk felt unaccountably smug when he entered the inner sanctuary and saw the slender figure draped in the coal black robes and standing before the smiling statue of _Kir-alep_ , currently in the process of respectfully bowing towards it.

Like the day before, a dark murmur was filling the small space and caused a shiver to run up and down Kirk’s spine.

He stood in the doorway, staring at the picture of the stark contrast the darkness of the robe and neat cap of hair presented against the backdrop of bright stone. Looking up into the face of an alien god, which was – for all intents and purposes – worshipped by only one lonely individual, made him sober up quickly and let the smugness turn into something more melancholy.

From somewhere in the far recesses of his mind, he could hear Spock’s deep, rumbling voice from months prior, “ _It is_ Kir-alep. _He’s Vulcan’s god of peace and... acceptance_.”

Peace and acceptance. And how painfully fitting was _that_ for this gentle creature, who had been driven to the brink of sanity only because he had not been accepted? Spock was so alone. He had said himself that he possessed so few bonds that loosing even _one_ was causing him major psychological distress. It was no hardship for the intelligent human to figure out that this fiancée of Spock’s hadn’t been the only one not accepting the man.

Kirk slowly shook his head in order to free himself from those morose thoughts and threw the smiling, benign face of the god one last look, thinking despite himself, ‘Thanks for watching out for him.’

He felt a little foolish and rolled his eyes at himself while advancing towards the Vulcan standing in front of the god’s replica with his head bowed and his hands out of Kirk’s sight – so they presumably were folded neatly in front of his body. Kirk was stealthy in his advance towards his unsuspecting victim and he utilized the seconds of unawareness in order to savour the feel of the baritone voice rippling across his skin.

_Be yourself._

_Especially, do not feign affection_.

At these lines, Kirk slung his arms around the slender waist and grinned against the nape of a pale neck, when he felt the sharp intake of breath due to his hands being plastered possessively across the flat belly – he would have totally missed it otherwise, for Spock was absolutely silent.

“I like this prayer. I’m perfectly content in giving it my seal of approval,” he murmured into one pointed ear. Spock was rigid in his arms, but he did not draw back which Kirk decided to take as consent.

“What does it tell you?” Spock asked after one or two heartbeats full of silence.

“It tells me that you should simply be yourself and not be ashamed of it,” Kirk said, pausing minutely in order to let that sink in, before he continued in a sly drawl, “And it tells me that I should spank you.”

Spock emitted a strangled, tiny noise that was quickly squashed and the Captain realized with a certain sense of surrealism that the Vulcan had been _so close_ in being startled into a laugh.

“Where do you take _that_ out of the prayer?” the Priest croaked and wanted to turn around, but Kirk held him steadfast at his waist and prevented it. The human watched with curiosity the slow change from ivory to mint green in the alien neck, while he growled, “It’s just my special brand of interpretation. But seriously: What are you _doing_ here?”

“My job, Jim.”

“I told you, you wouldn’t get back in here.”

“Jim...”

“No! Spock – you will no longer be a Priest. We’re going to leave the planet today and I’ll be damned, if you ever return to it in order to put this robe back on – which is, by the way, going to come off _right now_.”

Kirk could practically hear all the jumbled thoughts his declaration had elicited inside this brilliant mind, while Spock croaked, “Ex _cuse_ me?”

His fingers were at the buttons on front of the robe. They were just as dark as the material and easily overlooked. Kirk did not need to watch what he was doing in order to slip the round disks efficiently through their tiny holes. Spock’s hands came up, curling frantically around Kirk’s rough digits, but did not exert enough strength in order to hinder him in his progression.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve thought about what you’re wearing underneath? Do you even remember your witty, little quip?” he growled into the dark hair, hot breath causing the fine strands to vibrate. He could hear Spock’s breath quicken and about waist height he stopped undoing the buttons and raised his hands in order to curl fingers around the collar.

“’M going to see, what you’re wearing underneath, my little Priest...” he whispered and again there was a strangled exhalation that did not sound in the least like a laugh this time around – in fact, it sounded a little distressed. The Vulcan shook his head slowly.

“You can’t be seriously – “

“Oh, I am _quite_ serious,” Kirk interrupted and pulled the collar apart, stretching the fabric across shoulders – naked shoulders – and pulling the robe down upper arms. His pulse sped up and his breath came in short, little bursts, fanning over the pale skin he was exposing while his cock started to fill and push against the coarse fabric of his jeans.

The slender body of the other man was twitching ever so slightly; nervous tension radiating from tightly coiled muscles while capable hands, that were so much more stronger than he, were fluttering uselessly about, obviously unsure as to what he wanted to do.

There was a soft _fwhomp_ sound, as the heavy, black fabric slid all of a sudden down, pooling at Spock’s feet and leaving him unprotected from Kirk’s gaze. The Captain took one hasty step back, eyes roaming over a long, pale back and equally long legs, lingering on the only garment Spock had been wearing underneath – a pair of shorts from the same, loose fabric of the garments he had been wearing the night before.

Even Spock’s feet were naked – their soles reddened from the sand on Vulcan and looking inexorably erotic; long and graceful, with high arcs and straight, long toes.

“Spock...” Kirk murmured, voice thick with need and he settled his hands on the hip of the other man, manhandling him into turning around. Dark eyes were open wide, fixed immediately on Kirk’s flushed face, the sensual mouth pressed into a stern line. A faint vibration was starting up in the body of the alien and for the first time Kirk could ascertain just how deep the emerald blush was spreading down when it started at the graceful neck. Where it usually disappeared into the properly buttoned collar of the robes or shirt, it now started to spread across a surprisingly defined chest, partly hidden under a fleece of curly, black hair and reached down in a delectable V shape half across the tightly coiled stomach of his friend.

“Beautiful...” the human said breathless, his cock languidly straining against the tight confines of his jeans. His fingers started playing with the elastic band on Spock’s shorts, snapping it ever so slightly against overly protruding hipbones and causing the Priest to take a sharp breath.

“Captain Kirk,” Spock said at last; it sounded sharp and unforgiving and caused the human to snap his gaze back from endlessly long legs with their dusting of black hair up into slightly glazed dark eyes. He raised his eyebrows in enquiry.

“Huh?” he asked. He could see the Vulcan’s Adam’s apple bob in a sharp motion, before the creature said with a perfectly calm voice, “This is highly inappropriate.”

“I don’t see you fighting it,” Kirk grinned, his eyes dropping slowly down again, inexorably drawn by the distinct bulge in the loose fabric of Spock’s shorts.

“Quite the contrary, in fact,” he groaned, one hand shifting in order to cup the straining hardness, causing the Priest to practically _jump_ and for the first time grasp Kirk’s wrist in a deathgrip and preventing him to further touch.

“Jim!” Spock exhaled, eyes wide and almost panicked.

“What?” the Captain asked in exaggerated innocence. Spock had _not_ pulled his hand away, he noticed. The promising bulge under his palm gave a delicious twitch and sent shivers down his spine.

“Not in front of...” Spock started, but somehow faltered, his words hanging in the air between them. It took Kirk a while, until he understood and his eyes widened in probably comical dimensions, while staring at the Vulcan in dumb exasperation.

“Are you _serious_?” he choked out, his eyes wandering past Spock and up the stone statue of the god. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered, but the way dark eyes shifted away from his penetrating gaze was enough to ensure him that, yes, Spock was embarrassed to be fondled in front of a statue.

Heat pooled deep in Kirk’s gut and he emitted a deep, guttural growl, which caused the Vulcan to scrutinize him with a certain amount of trepidation, before the features of his normally aloof face totally derailed in the face of the Captain’s sudden plunge down onto his knees.

“What are you doing?!” Spock hissed in a hushed whisper as if afraid they would be overheard and it only added to Kirk’s sense of doing something _forbidden_ and utterly _delicious_ and it made his cock strain in his jeans. The throbbing place in the back of his brain that inexorably linked ‘danger’ and ‘deviousness’ to ‘pleasure’, itched.

“Watch me, Spock,” he growled, his voice thick and heated, pulling at the sole concealing garment the Priest was wearing.

He could hear a gasp above him and felt long, powerful fingers being thrust into his hair, but was not really aware of anything other than the spicy scent radiating from the long, slender erection rising proudly out of its nest of dark curls.

‘Double ridges...’ Kirk thought dazedly while inspecting the exotic head of the shaft and encircling it in a tight grip of his fist. There was moisture glistening between the ridges and while he watched, they seemed to expand and retract softly, like a living, breathing being. He observed in fascination the slight glistening of wetness spread slowly but surely.

There had to be a gland seated directly under the moving tissue, the natural lubrication being pressed out of its confines in order to coat the straining flesh.

There was a strangled sound above him and his eyes flicked up long enough in order to lock gazes with the Vulcan, who was staring down at him with an expression that Kirk decided to place in the category ‘absolute embarrassment’, although there was only a slight tint of green to the long, straight back of the nose and a minute trembling of the corners of Spock’s mouth.

“Watch me,” he growled again, voice husky and deep as he let go of Spock’s erection in order to bring the hand up to his face and lick a few times with broad swipes across his palm. He was not _entirely_ sure what happened, but the Vulcan’s eyes fluttered for a moment and he slumped forward, one hand being wrenched out of Kirk’s hair in order to brace himself on one broad shoulder as if he had brought Spock almost down to his knees only by licking his palm... huh... curious.

He brought the slippery fist back to the shaft, only to realize that the lubrication had worked its way across the throbbing erection and he hadn’t needed his own spit. He mentally shrugged his shoulders and started to tug slowly and lovingly at the length, absolutely fascinated by the trembling going through the tightly restrained body.

Kirk wondered, if Spock had ever been touched that way and a fierce fire of possessiveness lit inside his chest, causing him to moan himself.

“Please... not here, Jim,” the Priest suddenly piped up. He sounded breathless while obviously valiantly trying not to; he struggled to stand upright once again, his eyes wide and open and locking with Kirk’s. The Captain’s lips curled slowly into a smile, the heated gaze of his eyes flickering towards the benign, smiling face of the statue and he whispered, “He’ll be happy for you, Spock... don’t you worry.”

The Vulcan started shaking his head, his need for propriety obviously struggling with his need for proximity, while one hand was still fisted in Kirk’s thick hair and the other was curling at his side.

The human decided to help him with the decision by leaning forward and simply sucking the engorged head of the phallus into the moist cavern of his mouth.

Spock emitted a strangled sound, clearly trying to smother it and Kirk was somehow sure the grip in his hair had reached hurtful scales. However, he was not sure due to his distraction by the strange sensations in his mouth.

The first taste of the alien juices made _something_ explode in his oral cavity. His brain was reeling with the need to discern, whether his taste buds or his heat receptors were being engaged. It was... Kirk could not define it just yet. _Spicy_ was the only thing wobbling through his mind, while he tried swallowing all the saliva suddenly flooding his mouth.

His tongue, though, didn’t seem to have any problem adapting to the strange sensations, for it lapped eagerly against the smooth head, wiggling every now and again into the tiny opening and coaxing more of the sharp fluid out of the slit.

Kirk had to close his eyes, fully concentrating on the sheer otherness of this encounter; opening his throat and letting the mixture of fluids run down, while gingerly playing his lips and tongue around the heated head, until he felt secure enough to slide further down.

He could feel the double ridges move against the surface of his tongue and it was nothing like the involuntary movements cocks made from time to time; he felt like they were deliberately pressing against him every time he raised his tongue in order to lap eagerly and when he pulled his head a little back in order to tease the sensitive frenulum with the tip of his tongue, he could feel them quiver in response.

Kirk’s lips stretched into a self-indulgent grin and slowly but surely the novelty ebbed enough for him to be cognizant of the harsh gasps above him as well as the shivering fingers in his hair and the scrambling hand on his shoulder that was trying to find purchase and somehow utterly failing, though Kirk’s shirt was perfectly graspable.

The Captain slowly tipped his head back in order to glance up the long line of defined torso towards Spock’s face. He hollowed his cheeks out, sucking at the Vulcan cock, feeling heat and something else – something tingly and soft – pool in his gut when he saw his friend leaning back, head tipped backwards against the belly of the statue, clearly seeking for support. He could not see the Priest’s facial expression from this position, but the tiny, involuntary sounds were telling him enough.

Lean runner’s thighs were trembling with the exertion to stand upright, while Kirk started sucking and sliding in a slow, teasing rhythm, his own erection forgotten for the moment and his mouth starting to settle against the onslaught of spicy/hot.

Slender hips began making involuntary movements, the higher Spock climbed. Kirk reached up with one of his hands in order to grip them and steady his companion, while the other reached for the Vulcan’s still scrambling hand and laced their fingers together in order to stop the frantic movements.

All of a sudden the Priest stilled everything – even the harsh breathing – and a burst of fluid leaked from the steadily leaking tip of his cock directly onto Kirk’s tongue, bathing it and forcing him to swallow around the intruder.

There was a strangled tone from above; everything seemed to be frozen in time, muscles twitching and quivering and the double ridges fluttering against the roof of the Captain’s mouth. Spock seemed to be right on the precipice of plunging into an orgasm. There seemed to be missing only one little piece in order for the alien to finally let go of his formidable self-control.

Kirk squeezed the hand in his grasp.

And suddenly Spock was unravelling – exploding with a hoarse cry into Kirk’s mouth, while clawing with strong, long fingers at his hand and snapping his head forward, locking gazes with smiling eyes. A hot, delicious thrill coursed through the human’s body when he heard the whimper escaping his companion, followed by the soft _thump_ of the head pounding back against _Kir-alep_.

Kirk closed his eyes with a rapturous moan rumbling out of his chest, swallowing the fluid that was threatening to spill over if he didn’t do something about it.

Vulcan semen, he realized, wasn’t as thick as human semen. The consistency didn’t diverge a lot from his pre-ejaculate, but it was in greater quantities and therefore the sensation of hot and spicy assaulting his overworked nerves, was causing him to dig his fingers into the prominent, thick muscle of the Vulcan’s thigh and just hold on for the ride, swallowing what he could and thinking that this Vulcan Priest was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him...

 

.oOo.

 

Even two hours later, boarding the shuttle that would take them away from Vulcan, Spock was not talking to him and radiating a strong aura of miffed embarrassment.

Once calmed down from his sexual bliss, he had realized that he had slid down onto the ground and was being cradled gently to the broad chest of the human. Spock had been faster on his feet, pulling on his clothes, than Kirk could’ve said ‘Beam me up!’, but it was nothing to overly concern the boisterous man. He was sure the Vulcan would come crawl back out of his shell and forgive him.

It was a strange, new sensation – especially given the fact that Kirk himself had not come, but... well. Looking towards the Vulcan at his side, who tried simultaneously to not look excited and intimidated, while maintaining a carefully thunderous expression... it made him grin and slide his arm across Spock’s shoulders, only to be shrugged off with an exasperated glance out of oh-so-human eyes.

“Where are we going, Captain?” Spock asked stiffly. Kirk smiled.

“It’s a surprise,” he told him. Spock frowned, but seemed to think it below him to further ask.

 

.oOo.

 

The door of the shuttle opened and Kirk could see Spock taking a deep breath when the first burst of clear, cool air brushed across their noses. All around them was blue and green and high, white buildings. It looked so different to Vulcan.

Dark eyes eyed the juicy green grass and soft, blue sky and the Priest asked with a low voice, “Where are we, Jim?”

“Earth, Spock. San Francisco, to be exact.”

The human was only too willing to keep the Vulcan upright when Spock slumped slightly backwards against him, all breath knocked out of his lungs and staring bleary eyed around the environment that held possession over half of him.

Kirk hummed in satisfaction.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-reader for this chapter: Archmonkey.

When Kirk stepped out of the supermarket and into the afternoon light, he had to stop at the corner and put the full bags of groceries down. The air was humid and hot, forcing the man to put the cap of his uniform back on.

He was no longer looking as sleek as a few hours prior, but that wasn’t important. He had already gotten what he wanted and now they could celebrate. The face of the young man stretched into an ecstatic smile, as he thought about his Priest, waiting in his apartment. He snatched the bags up from the sidewalk, hurrying home in order to announce the news.

 

Kirk was not sure what he had been anticipating, when he entered the living room with its large windows overlooking San Francisco, but this was certainly not it.

The TV was running with low volume, while cartoon figures were being displayed. Sun light was plunging the room into a warm orange colour; even though his rooms were – as usual – messy, it looked quite appealing.

On the couch in front of the TV sat the Vulcan, curled into a blanket, wide, dark eyes slightly narrowed in their exhaustion. Bare, long toes were peeking out from beneath the blanket, where Spock had drawn his feet up upon the cushions of the couch.

Kirk’s throat started to close on its own, as he witnessed how exhausted the alien was after the long trip from Vulcan to earth – and obviously struggling with the new environment the unknown planet provided.

Spock looked like a large, sleepy cat and the normally boisterous human, who was never ashamed or reluctant to praise his own deeds, was silently tip-toeing into the kitchen, unwilling to disturb the rest of the gentle creature.

When he had put the groceries away, he returned to the living room, while opening the jacket of his uniform. Spock hadn’t moved, still looking at the TV, although it was pretty obvious to the human, that he wasn’t really seeing anything.

“Are you cold?” Kirk asked softly, while sliding onto the cushion next to Spock. The Vulcan did not answer immediately.

“A little,” he said at last, deep voice soft as velvet and eliciting goosebumps all over the human’s body. Spock really had to be out of it, if he conceded his discomfort without a fight.

“You poor thing,” Kirk whispered, more to himself than to Spock – he did not want to risk startling the Vulcan out of his drowsiness. He held his breath, while gingerly raising his arm and draping it carefully across Spock’s shoulders.

When nothing volatile happened, he pulled him closer. A minute or two went by without either saying anything. Kirk fancied that this situation was pretty romantic. Maybe he could get used to being a little mellower around the shy Vulcan. Maybe he could get monogamous even. Maybe...

“You smell sweaty,” Spock mumbled, sitting up and pushing Kirk simultaneously away.

This startled the man into an incredulous laugh, neatly dissipating the romantic atmosphere – but not the tingling in his stomach.

“Well excuse me for running around Starfleet Academy the whole day! I was just trying to collect a few favours so they’d admit you into taking the tests now instead of making you wait another two months for the official dates...” He came to a halt, looking into large, oh-so-human eyes, that had started to hectically blink their sleep away.

“You... went to the Academy?” Spock said at last very slowly, as if his formidable brain was having problems processing the information. Kirk frowned slightly.

“Yeees?” he drawled, uncertain as to where this was going.

“And you... collected favours? For... me?” the Vulcan continued. Kirk’s gaze darted down for a fraction of a second, watching as long, slim fingers began curling into the blanket, which was still somehow wrapped about Spock.

“Well... yes, of course. Why not? I’ve got this friend... Admiral Pike, he – “

“You asked an Admiral?”

Kirk’s lips started curling into a grin in the face of this dignified Vulcan positively squeaking. He quickly smothered his smile with a cough, so Spock would not see it. He refrained from answering, since it looked like Spock’s brain was finally kicking back into gear.

Soft, brown eyes suddenly focussed on him with grim determination. Silence reigned, only broken by the noise from the cartoons on the TV. After a little while, the human raised his eyebrows.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?!”

“What have they said?” Spock pressed, sliding a little closer towards the Captain. The Vulcan was looking kind of... eager. Kirk’s stomach made a somersault.

“Oh! Right! Aaahhh... They allowed it, of course,” he exclaimed, chest swelling in arrogant pride.

“The day after tomorrow it’ll begin. I’ve got the dates of the tests right... here...” – he dug in his pocket and drew a piece of paper out of it – “... and in about one and a half weeks you’ll have taken them all and – “

“The day after tomorrow?!” Spock interrupted him. He had become ghostly pale and was staring at Kirk in badly concealed alarm. Suddenly there was a flurry of motion as the Vulcan struggled out of his cocoon.

“I have to learn!” Spock exclaimed, snatching the paper out of Kirk’s still upheld hand and positively fleeing into the bedroom, where the Captain’s PC was placed.

“You’re... welcome?” he slowly said into the empty room, slightly dazed by the frantic determination of a Vulcan with a mission.

 

He had cooked for them. Some kind of vegetarian lasagne he had never before tried. He’d only indulged in the new recipe in consideration of his guest’s nutritional sensibilities.

Now, though, he was sitting in his bed, arms folded behind his head and idly watching the back of said guest, who was curled on a chair and reading some article-or-other, while the plate with the untouched meal stood forgotten at his elbow.

“Spo-ock,” the Captain called gently after a few minutes, the corners of his mouth curled into an indulgent grin.

“Hmmm... yes, Jim?” Spock rumbled after a while. It seemed like he was incredibly deep in thoughts.

“Your lasagne’s getting cold,” he scolded gently.

“Hmmm...” the Vulcan hummed, one hand trailing towards the food and picking up a fork, before his arm started uselessly sinking down onto the table. The Captain snickered, fairly sure that it would never reach its intended destination – at least warm.

 

He found Spock sleeping at his desk the next morning. The Vulcan stirred, when Kirk shoved his arms under the slender body and hauled him up.

“Hnngh?” he hummed, obviously still unable to articulate himself.

“Shh... sleep. I’ll wake you in two hours,,” Kirk promised. Spock would need more rest, but he was pretty sure his prickly Priest would be really put out with him, if he deprived him of more study hours than strictly necessary.

 

Kirk sat down in his bedroom, making it a point to keep Spock company during the long day. He was amusing himself with playing videogames and every now and again he reminded the Vulcan to drink or eat – sometimes it would even find its way into Spock’s mouth and not get forgotten half-way through.

The Captain was – to be honest – fascinated by the sheer amount of will and stubbornness radiating from the peaceful creature. The scientist in Spock was as clear as day – almost palpable. It caused that special part in Kirk – the purely professional, coldly rational part – to practically purr with the jealous knowledge that, yes, _he_ would get this alien in his crew and could utilize that fierce interest in order to transform the Enterprise into the best ship of the fleet.

However, the human also wondered, where the Priest had gone to. As far as he knew, Spock hadn’t thought even once about his god or the little temple back on Vulcan. He would’ve thought it infinitely harder to coax the alien away from his already trodden paths. He shut the portable gaming device, rolling onto his stomach and scrutinizing the back of the Vulcan’s head.

“Spock?”

“Yes...?” came the slightly absent reply. Kirk’s eyes narrowed a little and he asked with slow deliberation, “Don’t you miss _Kir-alep_?”

There was an almost imperceptible stiffening of shoulders under loose, dark fabric, before Spock turned around, glancing over his shoulder.

“Why should I miss him, Jim?”

“You’ve been worshipping him for... what... ten years? You’ve not even prayed since you’ve been here.”

“How would you know?” Spock now swivelled around in his chair, his slanted eyebrows drawn upwards and honest curiosity in his gaze. Kirk was a little taken aback – somehow he had thought he would only elicit annoyance within the creature, for interrupting him in his studies. However, Spock did not seem to be angry with him.

“Uh... I don’t know. You haven’t put your hands together and all that jazz,” he answered, motioning with his own hands in order to illustrate it. The Vulcan’s intelligent, dark eyes were getting astonishingly soft and full lips curved infinitesimally upwards.

“One does not need special gestures in order to pray. And I don’t need to be in my temple in order to worship him. Religion, Jim...” Spock started, but reined himself in, shaking his head ever so slightly and slowly bringing his hands together in his lap in order to loosely clasp them.

“I don’t need all of these things in order to keep...” _believing_ “...being who I am.”

It felt like a mug of hot chocolate had been spilled in Kirk’s stomach and he almost drew his knees towards his torso in reaction to the strange feeling of vertigo accompanying it, when he heard Spock saying this.

A few seconds ticked by and the large eyes crinkled at their corners in that typical silent laughter the Vulcan had.

“And I can not miss him, if you are here,” Spock suddenly said, his head tilting forward in an obvious attempt to hide the slight blush creeping up his neck and he quickly swivelled back around with his chair, diving back into his studies.

Kirk was lying utterly stunned on the bed and pondered over the implication that he was, in the eyes of this one Vulcan, on the same level as a god.

He felt, all of a sudden, rather small, insignificant... and very warm.

 

“You should come to bed, Spock.”

“I don’t know... there is still so much unknown. I don’t think it is wise to attempt the test tomorrow. I need more time to prepare, Jim. I will only embarrass you and waste the time of the instructor,” Spock said from his perch on the chair. He sounded surprisingly meek to Kirk’s ears. The eyes of the man went wide.

“Are you... are you _nervous_ , Spock?” he said incredulously.

Spock spun around and fixed him with a heated glare, slim nostrils flaring and tipping his nose a little up.

“Well, I am entitled to, am I not? This is, after all, highly irregular and I think you have been far too hasty in your approach of the subject. I appreciate your faith in me, but –“

“Spock.”

“Jim?”

“Come here already. You will pass the test with flying colours – you are freakishly smart.”

“But –“

“Of course, you _could_ fail it simply by being tired and overwrought, so...”

“Jim...”

“ _Come. Here. Spock_.”

A little sigh, but the Vulcan stood up – finally – and gingerly made his way over to the bed. His eyes looked huge in the pale face and one corner of his mouth was twitching in something Kirk was inclined to call nervousness. He smiled and invitingly raised one corner of the blanket.

 

“J-Jim...” the whisper was hot and dry against the human’s ear. The Vulcan’s body was – Kirk had quickly realized –hot and dry all over and his skin felt dense and absolutely silken under his exploring fingertips.

“Shh...” he growled back, turning his head and capturing the lips – just as dry as the skin of Spock’s chest, until he swiped his tongue over them, granting them his own moisture.

The lean body trembled against him, when he brushed his thumb across one olive nipple and when he took the little nub between thumb and forefinger, rolling it exquisitely, the Vulcan reflexively bit into the tip of the human’s tongue – luckily not hard enough to cause real pain.

The shivering remained, until Kirk loosened the kiss and tugged the blanket higher, almost over their heads, enclosing them both in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy and leaving them plunged almost entirely in darkness.

“Jim...” Spock croaked again, those long, elegant fingers fluttering about the broad back of the Captain. He was not sure if the Vulcan was simply too shy to touch or was not sure where to touch first.

“You’ll sleep so well afterwards... I promise...” Kirk whispered against the slim column of Spock’s throat and let his tongue trail over the protruding Adam’s apple.

“I don’t know... if this is...” Spock began, but trailed off, when the human gently wedged his thigh between the alien’s legs and nudged against the sensitive testicles. Spock’s arms surged under Kirk’s, hands curling around the shoulders and fingers digging into the thick muscles he found there, while choking on a rough moan. Kirk started trailing soft kisses along a collarbone. It was just as slender and straight as everything on this angular body, it seemed. He nibbled on the thin skin and allowed the alien the small, involuntary movements of his hips that allowed the wet, straining erection to glide along his hairy thigh.

Sweet little sounds were emanating from Spock’s throat – he could feel them vibrating against his tongue and moaned deliriously in response, his own thick organ pulsing angrily. Kirk shifted, so their lower bodies were closer, his erection trapped between the thick muscles of his own belly and the flat surface of Spock’s stomach.

He started rocking his hips as well, imitating the Priest’s movements, so the little involuntary motions were bringing them together in sweet, delicious friction. He could feel not only the smear of fluid on his thigh, easing the way for Spock’s hot member, but also the wetness he himself left on the Vulcan’s ivory flesh.

He wondered, if Spock was flushed again – if his ivory skin was tinged in the most luxurious shade of green; if all those long, sinuous muscles were quivering under the taught skin, as he imagined them. Alas, he did not want to break the spell of this moment by dragging the blanket off of their heads. He felt like a teenager – it was so exciting. The tiny sounds escaping Spock seemingly against his will, were sending pulses of pleasure along his back.

“You all right?” he whispered nonetheless, while ducking his head further and nuzzling against the soft curls covering the alien’s chest, until encountering the hard nub of his nipple and swiped his tongue across it.

“Ye-e-esss!” Spock suddenly blurted out in a stuttering breath and his body stiffened for long seconds, seemingly horrified at his shameless display. Kirk blew a long, warm breath across the moist skin and groaned deep in his throat.

“God, yes...” he answered, ensnaring the slender body with his own arms and bringing his head up, so their bodies could be pressed flush together.

“You’re perfect, Spock... so perfect,” he whispered against moist, trembling lips, rhythmically tensing the muscles in his stomach, while rocking against the other man. He pulled his thigh out from between the alien’s legs – an involuntary sound of protest followed, until he aligned their twitching erections, so they were grinding and slipping against one another.

Long fingers dug once again into his skin and the long body started to positively vibrate against him.

“Jim... Jim...” the Priest whispered like a chant, no longer seeming to care about his conduct. The Captain groaned again, pressing his forehead against Spock’s and starting up a rhythm in earnest; Spock picked up on it, to Jim’s endless delight, rutting inexpertly and utterly magnificently against him.

“You’re perfect. Gonna blow them away tomorrow. Gonna pass every test, you’ll see. ‘M so proud of you. So... So...” he was babbling at this point, his breathing hitching, while feeling the delicious slide of dense, dry skin against his own.

His nipples were hard points of sweet pain, rubbing against the fleece of curls on Spock’s own chest and slightly chafing, while their cocks twitched between them, aided by the generous amount of the Vulcan’s natural lubrication.

By god, he could _feel_ those double ridges move against his own glans – their retracting and expanding and the little spurts of moisture they pressed out of the gland.

Spock was emitting a deep rumbling groan, ducking his head and pressing his face against the juncture of Kirk’s neck and shoulder, pressing tiny shy kisses there.

Kirk’s head began to spin at the way Spock was able to grind against him like a bitch in heat while still retaining the façade of innocent exploration. It was mind boggling.

This creature was mind boggling. He somehow doubted he would ever understand this particular Vulcan wholly and truly.

Spock’s breath started to pick up, coming in fast, little bursts. Kirk’s hands trailed down, cupping two mounds of perfect, small buttocks, squeezing them gently in experimentation – and suddenly the Vulcan was over the edge.

Sharp, even teeth dug into Kirk’s shoulder, while a low ecstatic rumble emanated from the trembling creature and hot spurts of watery ejaculate was coating their bellies.

The sharp pain in his neck only added to the stimuli provided by the convulsing man in his arms and Kirk moaned long and low in the back of his throat, while bucking his hips violently and shooting his own load so it could mingle with Spock’s essence.

They held on to one another, while catching their breath, not ready to leave their cocoon of warmth just yet.


	9. Chapter 9

In front of the large building of Starfleet Academy stood a large sculpture. James had never really paid attention to it – it was a figure of abstract art and held no interest whatsoever for the Captain. Even now, leaning with his butt against the thick granite surface that made the bottom of the sculpture, he did not really realize its shape or grandeur or the way the lines of the granite were flowing into one another in beautiful, precise waves.

His attention was solely focussed on the large glass doors in front of him; eyes squinting slightly in an expression of intense scrutiny. He had one leg bent at the knee and braced it against the stone behind him, while his arms were folded tightly across his chest, fingers digging deeply into the material of his uniform. Cadets were streaming along in front of him, smiling, laughing, chatting – but he did not really see them. Only every now and again was he straining his back or tilting from left to right in order to look past one obstacle and not leave the doors out of his sight.

It’s been nearly two and a half hours, since he had left Spock in the classroom and he wondered exactly how long it could possibly take to explain the intricacies of biological warfare to the examiner, when his eyes were, for the first time that morning, drawn by something else – a young woman standing next to her girlfriends, her hair shining red in the sun beating down on them and her blue eyes positively riveted upon the Captain.

His stomach made a sensual flip and his lips wanted to stretch into a seductive smile. The process of wooing an obviously interested party was as easy as breathing. He could see the way a blush crept up her neck and the shy smile playing around the edges of her mouth. His fingers loosened for the first time since taking his silent vigil and blood rushed back into the abused tissue, reminding him suddenly _why_ exactly he stood there; looking like an idiot for all intents and purposes – staring yearning at the door.

Spock...

The Vulcan priest, who had been rubbing up against him the previous night, eliciting the most delicious noises – gifting the human with his vulnerability and naïveté. The exact same Vulcan who was, at this moment, being tested for one of the many abilities he would need to bring along in order to be allowed on a starship. The Vulcan who had – quite unwittingly – managed to cause the Captain of the Enterprise to claw at his own biceps in utter frustration, before his nervous fingers started going wild.

Jim’s lips, that had been contemplating to stretch into a sensual grin towards the young woman, froze and heat leapt up into his cheeks. The Captain quickly lowered his head, while bringing one hand up and tipping the rim of his hat downwards, shielding his face from the curious gazes around him.

Therefore he had not seen the object of his intense scrutiny leaving the building and gingerly approaching him. Only when the deep baritone voice snaked around him with a hesitatingly voiced, “Jim?”, did he jerk up and looked with wide eyes at Spock, who had bent down in his knees a little in order to gaze into the human’s face and was now taking a small, but quick step back. They stared at each other for about five seconds, before the human kicked his brain back into gear and spluttered, “You’re finished!”

Dark eyes crinkled slowly at the corners and Spock did not even need to say, what was going through his head, ‘Duh! Obviously!’.

“How was it?” Jim asked eagerly, righting his body from the comfortable slouch against the sculpture and looking Spock over. He wore dark, inconspicuous garments, which were still as immaculate as when he had pulled them on that morning and he had tucked his hands away neatly behind his back. The alien face was carefully blank, while the Vulcan slightly tilted his head and seemed to ponder the question, before he intoned after a while, “I don’t know.”

James gaped at him.

“You don’t know? What –“

“The instructor has not, in fact, told me his conclusion. As far as I understood, the results will be laid open at the end of next week – when I have taken all tests,” Spock intoned with great dignity. The human blinked and reached up, taking his hat down with one hand and shoving the other through his blond hair – managing to make it stick up in every direction.

There was an enigmatic gaze out of soft, brown eyes directed his way and for a second he thought he could detect fond exasperation in their depths. But he was not entirely sure about that one.

He placed the hat back on his scalp and said with forced patience and very slow, as if talking to a kid, “But you _have_ to have a... a feeling as to how it went. I mean – come on! Can’t you speculate?”

A long, expressionless glance followed, before there was slowly the crinkling in the corners again and Spock said dryly, “I’d never presume to have a _feeling_ towards a test, Captain Kirk. And to speculate at this point would be... illogical. _Kaiidth_. What is, is.”

“Spoooock!” He knew that he was whining, yes – he only didn’t give a damn about it. The Vulcan ducked his head ever so slightly, angling his shoulders away from Kirk and clearing his throat.

“May we discuss it on our way... home?” the priest asked. Kirk huffed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Might as well. Or... hey! You wanna go eat out?”

“Eat out? What exactly would I want to eat out, Jim?” Spock asked, slanted brows furrowing. They hadn’t even taken two steps and the human stopped again, throwing his companion a shrewd look, contemplating, if Spock was kidding him. After looking into guilelessly innocent eyes, he took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm – once again.

“Nothing. I meant: Do y’ wanna eat in a restaurant... or something. For lunch. I’ll buy, of course.”

“Oh.” There was a slight pause and dark eyes flicked around, taking in their surroundings for a second, before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think that would be wise, Jim. I have to learn for tomorrow. Also I’ve been told there is a simulator on the campus, where I could hone my navigational skills for the exam next week...” He let the sentence hang uncharacteristically in the air and directed the gaze of his enigmatic eyes towards the human.

Kirk, who had been deflating a little at having been rebuffed, needed a few seconds, until he realized what Spock was asking.

“Oh,” he echoed the Vulcan from moments prior, then nodded. “I’ll take you back here in the evening. And I’ll help you.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

“Don’t mention it, Spock.”

 

 

“Spock.”

“...”

“Spock!”

A flinch at his side and then an almost annoyed look.

“What is it, Jim?”

“Why are you looking so troubled?”

“I’m not...”

“Spock...” he seized one sinewy upper arm and drew the Vulcan to the side under the protection of a little doorway and scrutinized him with shining eyes. They were almost at Jim’s apartment and his companion had been absolutely silent while they briskly walked – that in itself was not unusual for the quiet alien; the fact, though, that his dark eyes were flicking from side to side, was a little unnerving for Kirk. “What is it?” he asked with insistence.

Spock did not look happy with the fact that they were standing in public, while the human asked these deeply personal things, but he answered after a while nonetheless.

“I am simply... unsure as to how to react to all those humans. They are _looking_ at me.”

Dark blond eyebrows raised and James let his gaze roam towards the sidewalk as surreptitiously as possible. Indeed, the people walking by threw them curious glances, but did not stop and stare. He shrugged a little.

“They don’t mean anything by it, Spock. Vulcans are simply not as common on earth.”

The alien pressed his lips into a tight line and looked stubbornly at a point directly above Kirk’s right shoulder. The human sighed and shook his head.

“Spock. They don’t mean anything bad by it. If anything, they’re fascinated. You’re a good looking guy, after all.”

Soft, brown eyes snapped to his; he seemed to have pierced Spock’s defences with his strange reasoning, for the Vulcan was for a few precious seconds not able to conceal the pure vulnerability and confusion.

Kirk’s lips finally split into the smile that had been lurking around the corners all the while and he gripped Spock’s elbow with a laugh, tugging him along the sidewalk once more.

“You’re precious,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

 

This time Jim plopped down in front of the TV, while Spock squirreled away into the bedroom in order to learn. He fell asleep some time during a talk-show and when he snored viciously loud, yanking himself out of his sleep, he blinked to the sight of iced tea standing on the low table in front of him. The Captain grinned sleepily and felt heat trickle through his abdomen.

 

He had gone and bought a few bottles of water, because he had not calculated the heat and the fact that they were two grown men. When he came back into the apartment, the sun was just starting to sink and he surmised he could collect his charge and go back to the Academy for those simulations.

However, when he walked into the bedroom, there was no trace of the Vulcan. His eyebrows rose, but he did not feel alarmed. It did not take long until he found Spock on the balcony, huddling down on the ground, bracing his back against the wall and staring into the orange of the sky.

Jim frowned and sat down at his side.

“Something the matter?” he asked, gently nudging his companion with the shoulder. Spock merely shook his head and kept staring; there was a straight crease between his eyebrows and his lips were set into a hard line. He seemed to be contemplating something. Kirk let him be for the time being and just waited with him for god knew what.

After about half an hour the human decided that it was enough – he was bored – and declared, they had to go to the Academy. Spock went placidly.

 

The next day went similar. Kirk brought Spock into the Academy in order to take his test. They went back afterwards and Spock would plunge himself into his learning materials. In the afternoons they went back, so the Vulcan could get hand-on practice.

Jim was light hearted and joking, but it was obvious that even someone as studious as Spock was not unaffected by this lifestyle. He was, for lack of a better word, twitchy. And to see someone like the priest in such a state of nervousness was... unsettling.

Only when they came back from the simulations did the Vulcan seem to find a semblance of tranquillity – almost fleeing to the balcony, dropping down on the same spot and staring into the sky. Kirk accompanied him.

The human felt a secret delight at the way Spock would slowly but surely start to curl towards him – getting bolder each night, until finally the hotter-than-human body was pressed against the man and the head was lying on the shoulder. He seemed pliant and content – if it weren’t for the deep crease between those silky eyebrows and the stubborn silence he maintained.

 

“Hey Spock. Only three more days and you’ve done it. What d’you think about that, eh?” Kirk said at last, when he let himself sag down next to his friend. The warm air of the night tickled his nose. He grinned, when the Vulcan folded himself unselfconsciously against him and raised his arm, throwing it across narrow shoulders.

“I don’t know. Should I think something about it?” Spock said slowly. Kirk huffed and turned his head, peering into the pensive face.

“Okay. Seriously – what’s up with you? What are you thinking about?”

Sensually curved lips twisted into a moue of distaste and dark eyes averted from the sky in order to look at Jim. Spock opened his mouth, but the human pre-empted him.

“And don’t evade again. You may be able to bluff your way through a poker game with mafia bosses, but you simply can’t deny, that you’re pondering something. Very extensively at that, if I might add. You get that infuriating ‘I’m thinking think-y thoughts’ look every time you do that.”

The frown on the Vulcan’s face deepened and it was only too apparent, what he thought about _that_ deduction, but he said nothing and slowly turned towards the front again. Long fingers played with the hem of his shirt and then he asked something Kirk had definitely not been anticipating.

“What do you think of me?”

“Wha... what do you mean?” the Captain asked, face scrunching up in confusion, while slowly withdrawing his arm from Spock. The Vulcan twisted around at that, peering intently at his companion and setting his jaw in a way that could only be described as stubborn.

“What do you think of me, James? What exactly do you want _from_ me?” he repeated and then continued as if a dam had broken free and he could not stem the tide any longer, “You met me only once and suddenly you _clung_ unto me. You presented me with the PADD and made sure I was entertained and you go to all the lengths so I can get into Starfleet, although I have not made it easy for you. Why do you _do_ that? Am I an experiment? Or do you want me as... as...” he faltered only for a moment, heat flaring in his eyes – the angry one, not the lustful one, unfortunately – and then he spat, “as a _toy boy_ for you?”

There was silence stretching between them. Kirk was able to hear faintly the sounds of hovercars and people way down on the streets. He blinked a few times and slowly looked around the balcony in the darkness, looking for something that could somehow occupy him, while he thought frantically of an answer. The longer it took, the harder the Vulcan’s face got, until Spock said with a low, slightly vibrating voice, “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Kirk immediately contradicted, raising his hand and ruffling through his short hair.

“Spock, look. I...” he faltered and blew a long breath out. He did not feel comfortable with talking about his feelings. He knew, for a fact, that Spock absolutely loathed it – so it must’ve simmered a long while in the gentle creature, until he hadn’t been able to bear it anymore. The human closed his eyes and simply leapt – as he usually did. “I think you are absolutely stunning and fascinating. You are brighter than is good for you and the fact that you would’ve willingly wasted that intelligence away on Vulcan makes me so angry that I want to smash your face in sometimes. Other than that – you’ve looked so lonely in there. I thought you were nice and I wanted to get to know you and then I realized we could be friends and –“

“And that was all? You wanted to be _friends_?” Spock interrupted. Kirk glanced towards the alien and saw the knowledge in the dark, chocolate eyes and sighed. They both knew the answer, but he said it nonetheless. “No. Of course not. You were a challenge and I wanted to take it on. I wanted you in my bed.”

There was silence again between them and Spock slowly wound his arms around his bony knees, while drawing them up to his chest. He rested his chin upon them and his next words sounded a little muffled, when he said, “You realize that this... whatever it is between us... has to end, if I manage to get into the Fleet?”

Kirk’s head whipped around and he stared at the alien, his stomach twisting unbearably. He would not have anticipated this level of agony coursing through him at Spock’s matter-of-fact voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Fraternization. It’s not allowed, you know. You’re the Captain.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

“Jim...”

“No! I don’t care what’s allowed and what not. I can’t live, if I can’t have you!”

Spock made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort, if Kirk wasn’t so sure that the Vulcan was too dignified for something like that.

“Jim, please. You sound like a teenager, who’s...” Spock faltered. Kirk’s eyes narrowed slightly, he knew exactly what was flitting through the Vulcan’s mind in this second.

“...lovesick, Spock?” he whispered and the Vulcan almost – _almost_ – recoiled at that, his head snapping around and enigmatic eyes fixing the human with a hard stare.

“Don’t say it,” he whispered.

“What, that I lo-“

“Jim, don’t.”

Dark blond eyebrows drew together in stubbornness and he sat up, turning towards Spock and shoving his jaw forward in an act of defiance.

“I lo-“

“No! Don’t say it!” Spock hissed, letting go of his legs and sitting up himself, hands curled into tight fists on top of his thighs, slanted eyebrows drawn together so furiously, that he looked like the devil himself in that moment.

“-ve you. I _love_ you,” Kirk finished, eyes glittering in his petulant enjoyment. They stared at each other, chests heaving in their agitation, both frowning like their lives depended on it and with deep, angry blushes on their faces – one crimson and one verdant.

He could see an odd, wet shimmer in Spock’s eyes and huffed.

“Why are you so upset? Others would be over the moon to hear that from me. Why do you...” A strange feeling entered him; something he had never felt before. Was it... was he... was James T. Kirk actually feeling _inadequate_? That was a new one. “Don’t you want me?” he whispered, voice astonishingly small.

The dark eyes slid away and stared into Kirk’s lap for quite a while, until...

“Straighten your legs,” Spock demanded with a low voice. Kirk blinked at the apparent non-sequitur.

“Excuse me?”

“Straighten your legs, Jim,” the Vulcan repeated patiently and with a sigh the Captain complied – only to have his lap full of a hot, heavy body in the next moment. His eyes widened in astonishment, as he looked up into the face of Spock, who was straddling him. _Straddling_ him. Spock! The _Priest_! It was mind boggling.

Long fingers fluttered about his face for a second, as if they really, really wanted to cup it – only to be lowered and curled into the T-Shirt of the human. They were silent again for a while. Kirk slowly, gingerly, put his hands on the thighs of the kneeling alien, but did not budge further.

“I want you. I shouldn’t, actually, but I find myself unable to quench these... urges,” Spock suddenly blurted out. His eyes were not quite meeting the human’s; they were more fixed on his chin, as if the stubble of the day was absolutely fascinating. “However, this is merely a minor hurdle in the face of... the other problems that arise with these desires,” the Vulcan continued and Kirk frowned, before letting his head fall back. It thumped against the wall and he grimaced.

“You,” he started, raising one hand and pointing directly between Spock’s eyes, “are the most infuriating,” he tapped the deep crease between slanted eyebrows, “stubborn,” another tap, “enigmatic alien... man... Vulcan... whatever – that I ever met. And the _worst_ part of it,” his finger touched the hot skin for a third time; this time he held it there, though, exerting gentle pressure and pressing Spock’s head just that little bit backwards, “The worst part is, that you absolutely love being so obstinate. I can see it in your eyes. You are madly cackling inside every time I make my stupid ‘I don’t understand you’ face.”

His finger fell away; slowly, tracing the straight back of the Vulcan’s nose and almost flicking the tip, before his hand settled back down on the man’s thigh. Spock just stared at him, eyes a little wider than usual, as if impressed by Jim’s deduction, but unwilling to show it.

They were silent for a while again, until Jim huffed and raised his arms, bringing them around the alien and drawing him forward. Spock resisted for a few seconds, but ultimately conceded and let himself be drawn against the cool, broad chest of his companion, laying his head after much contemplation gingerly down upon his shoulder. Jim had the feeling that Spock had never before simply... snuggled.

“I got the feeling you wanted to break up with me but somehow didn’t get the curve, Spock,” Kirk murmured finally, after he had allowed himself the luxury of inhaling the Vulcan’s barely noticeable scent.

“Hmm...” the Vulcan hummed. It sounded sullen and the Captain grinned despite himself. Leave it to Spock to be put out by not having the balls to break up with someone. That was... were they... _together_? Was there even something to _break up_?

“Did you mean that? Just now?” Spock whispered against Jim’s neck. He could feel the hot breath of the alien tickling his skin and closed his eyes with a shudder.

“You mean my... ah... declaration?” he asked, suddenly too shy to repeat it. There was an almost imperceptible nod on his shoulder and Jim chewed for a moment on his tongue, before he admitted, “I don’t know. Probably. If it’s any consolation: I never felt like that before with anybody, so... there’s that.”

“Why should that be a consolation?”

“Dunno.”

Spock huffed an annoyed breath and Jim squirmed a little in the face of another tickling. They were silent again. Then, “I could have intercourse with you.”

Kirk choked on his own spit and started coughing. Spock wanted to draw away, throwing him a strange look, until the Captain shook his head – still coughing – and drew him near again.

“I... uh... that’s nice? Yay? Uh... right now?” he stuttered.

‘Way to go, Kirk. Absolutely smooth, Ladykiller...’ a snide voice chided him in the back of his head. Spock went on as if he had not heard.

“It would probably be satisfying. However, as a half-human half-Vulcan hybrid I have certain... needs in the long run. I would yearn for a mental connection, not just a physical one.”

“And where is the problem?” Kirk asked. He decided not to comment on the fact that Spock spoke of ‘the long run’ and seemed to have absolutely forgotten his earlier misgivings regarding Starfleet and Fraternization. And why the hell did he have the strong feeling that this little Priest was just shoving regulations and rules in the front so he could sneakily break them in the background? Huh.

“I... don’t...” Spock’s deep voice was nearly impossible to hear and Kirk had to tilt his head in order to make it out over the faint bustle of the street down below – although it started to lessen with the late hour. “I’m afraid to.”

Kirk slowly swiped one hand up the long back and then down again – one firm caress. He did not want to pry right now, so he said nothing. Spock, too, fell silent and after half an hour of not talking, the human decided that they have had enough for one night.

“We should go and sleep. You’ve got a test tomorrow,” he murmured. Spock nodded and got up from his crouched position. He looked down upon Kirk and – after much hesitation – stretched his hand outward to the human. The Captain stared upwards and wondered why he looked so vulnerable and shy in that moment. As if afraid to be... what... chased away?

He raised his hand – broad and rough – and placed it into the long, slender one. Creamy fingers curled around him – hot pressure points, that were felt painfully and individually upon his skin. There seemed to flow an electrical current through the points of connection and Spock’s pupils flared wide. Kirk got gently drawn upwards and they stood for seconds, breathing the air of the other and still clasping hands.

“Just so we’re on the same page,” Jim whispered after a while against slightly parted lips, “You... did not break up with me in the end, did you?”

Spock smiled – at least his eyes did, for they crinkled endearingly at the corners. Jim had the feeling he would never get enough of this secret, mischievous glance.

His Priest did not answer, but he got gently led back into the dark apartment. Spock never let go of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs a little* they're such dummies... but adorable dummies... like puppies that just don't get that they're not supposed to chew the shoes. 
> 
> Thank you all for the reviews <3 I always get such a goofy grin, when I read them x3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-read by: Archmonkey

Kirk was leaning against the sculpture in front of the Academy as he had done years ago as a student, and once again Jim realised he had no clue what on earth it was supposed to look like. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets and his hat was shoved under his arm, due to the fact that this day wasn’t nearly as hot as the past week had been. The sky was mottled with fluffy, white clouds that were gathering at the horizon and probably preparing for a downpour.

There weren’t many students of the Academy around at this time of day – it was slowly but surely fading into evening and they were most likely hunting down dinner. Therefore he had a clear view of the huge glass doors, while he waited for Spock to arrive after his last test. The results would be forthcoming in about three days and until then they would have time to enjoy themselves.

‘And when he has the okay,’ he thought, for there was no doubt in his mind regarding the outcome – no matter how critical Spock always looked after the tests, ‘I can take him with me to the Enterprise.’

It was true – his time on shore leave was running out fast and sooner than later he had to get back to his ship. He missed her – really, he did.

There was movement behind the glass and the human perked up, a smile stretching his features when he saw Spock. Walking alongside him was a stout man speaking animatedly, while the Vulcan nodded every now and again to whatever the guy had to say.

Kirk frowned slightly, tapping his foot on the concrete and narrowing his eyes. There was a strange wave of... jealousy washing through him. It hit him without preparation and yet it wasn’t entirely unforeseen. Ever since he known Spock, the Vulcan had always been alone. It was – surprisingly enough – the first time he saw the alien talk to someone beside him. The thought made a fierce, hot fire start crackling in his chest; a need to protect this creature. When the Vulcan emerged at last from the Academy, his gait efficient and powerful, he could not refrain from asking the first question, that came to his mind.

“What was that all about?”

Spock did not even try to pretend he did not understand. Instead he cocked his head a little to the side and willingly offered the information.

“That was my examiner; Professor Derrek. He was somewhat... astonished by my accomplishments in alien languages, it seems. He has offered me a place with the Academy.”

Kirk must’ve looked as astonished as he felt, because Spock obviously felt the need to clarify, “As a teacher, Jim.”

The human shook his head energetically.

“Yes, yes, I understood that. I just... what? I mean... did you – did you take it?”

There was a crinkling at the corners of Spock’s oh-so-human eyes and the Vulcan replied placidly, “Of course not. I want to explore for myself, Jim; I don’t want to teach what others have found out.”

Jim just stared at him, until the amusement spread subtly across Spock’s face and he raised his hand, laying it under the human’s chin, gently closing the little gap that had occurred, while Jim just gaped at him.

They looked at one another for a few seconds, heat crackling between them, until a slight flush washed across the high cheekbones of the Vulcan and he lowered his gaze almost shyly.

“I seem to remember you... mentioned a _treat_ when I finished my tests?” he said and it really should not have been so erotic to hear this silken voice wrap around the word ‘treat’, while the tips of Spock’s ears started to suffuse with colour.

Jim slowly started smiling, drawing the hat out from under his arm and gently tugging it over the Vulcan’s head.

“A treat will immediately be provided, Sir,” he said, saluting and marching off, leaving Spock to hastily follow him.

 

He treated his shy companion to a restaurant serving Chinese dishes and delighted in the way the Vulcan had picked the experience apart with almost childlike curiosity. Chinese must have been for the alien what Vulcan was for the humans – so strange and compelling and utterly foreign.

It was no surprise to Jim that Spock had learned almost immediately how to handle the chopsticks or that the Vulcan had started to translate the menu by the time the main course arrived. To watch Spock figuring out the world around him was breathtaking.

During the course of the past few days this gentle creature had learned to accept the way he drew stares towards him and not be mortified by the attention; he seemed to have grasped the fact that the humans surrounding him had no ill intent and so he had been utterly unselfconscious while almost surgically dissecting the foreign foods and watch what was contained in the crispy rolls or ornately wrapped leafs.

And Spock had looked so exotically, sitting there across from him; looking so very much like the young women and men serving them – with the same coal black hair and dark, almond shaped eyes – and yet so utterly alien with the silky, slanted eyebrows, the narrow bone structure and those delicately pointed ears.

Kirk had felt for the first time in his life not the need to be exuberant or push the conversation along or something like that. He had been utterly content simply in sitting across from his strange companion and watch him interact with everything. He had been able to see the force of nature that was Spock’s scientific curiosity, merge with the gentle reticence that was the shy, mischievous Priest and simply had no longer been able to contain the smile on his face or subdue the hot prickle in his stomach.

 

After the restaurant they had walked the streets of San Francisco, watching the nightlife with some modicum of amusement, until Kirk sensed the uneasiness of his companion and gently steered him away from the hustle and bustle and walked with him into a park. It smelled of moist grass and wood – the clouds that had threatened earlier that day with a downpour had made their promise true while they had been eating, though the rain hadn’t been strong.

They walked in silence along the path, listening to the crunching under their soles, until Spock took hold of Kirk’s wrist and suddenly drew him through the trees and into a little clearing. James raised his eyebrows and snorted, when Spock unceremoniously knelt down in the moist, juicy grass and stared up into the sky.

“Freak,” he grumbled good naturedly, before sitting down next to the Vulcan with a groan that bore witness to how much he had eaten that night. He leaned backwards, bracing himself on his arms and watched Spock for but a few seconds, before following his gaze and looking up towards the stars.

In a few days he would be back up there – the thought was soothing.

Kirk turned his head again and watched Spock. The Vulcan had closed his eyes and before Kirk could blurt something out, which would have certainly ruined the mood – he knew himself, after all – Spock started to talk.

It took the man embarrassingly long until he realized that the alien was... praying.

_Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence._

_As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons._

_Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story._

_Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself._

Spock fell into silence and lowered his head, staring down into his lap, where he had enfolded his hands. His fingers were clasped together in an intricate pattern and only now did Jim realize that he needed to breathe again.

He drew a long, sudden breath into his lungs and very gingerly sat up, trying to get a glimpse of the expression on Spock’s austere features, but it was too dark right now and the Vulcan was slightly hunched forward. It startled him a little, when the dark, soothing tones of his companion’s voice permeated the almost intimate air between them.

“You are, in fact, a greater person than I am, Jim. I am not entirely sure that you realize the impact you had on my life.”

The human tried himself on an awkward laugh, because his heart was starting to hammer so fast and his hands became moist with nervousness and this was the only expression of emotion that would not cause him to lose face.

“Pssh... don’t be daft, Spock,” he growled roughly. The alien would not let himself get deterred.

“No, Jim. I’m not _daft_. I’m highly intelligent – you said so yourself. And all my examiners have told me something to the same extent. I have thought very carefully about everything and therefore,” he paused for a second and raised his head again towards the sky, “therefore, Jim – I _know_ that I won’t be able to ever thank you properly. You have taken me and yanked me out of my personal hell. You have extended your hand in friendship – even though your reasons have been far more nefarious – “ Kirk snorted at that and there was a soft exhale of air from Spock, indicating that he, too, was amused, “and have shown me that contact with other beings can be... exhilarating and soothing and rewarding and thrilling, instead of crushing and hurtful.”

There was a pang in Kirk’s chest, when he heard those words. He swallowed thickly and fisted his hands into the moist blades of grass. He thought of Spock – utterly defeated by his own society, seeking refuge within a deity of gaiety and acceptance. A deity that Spock himself so elegantly reflected in his peaceful, accepting nature, and who deserved to be treated with the same kindness.

The human flinched, when the Vulcan suddenly jerked around, unto his hands and knees, right next to the Captain. His dark eyes were so intent, that they caused a shiver to slide down Kirk’s spine. His voice, when Spock spoke, went right under Jim’s skin.

“I’ve nearly went mad, when my bond with T’Pring was severed. It has taken me a long time until I had myself back under control and after that... after this... experience,” the Vulcan’s breath hitched minutely, but he ploughed on, “I’ve not had the courage to venture out any further before now. I’ve been a coward, too afraid to get thrown back into the abyss. Too afraid to do _anything_... Until you came along, Jim.”

Spock raised his hand and the tips of his fingers started very gingerly tracing pale, pink lips, towards his cheek and for a moment they wanted to stray further up, wanted to splay against the human face – Kirk could feel it in the trembling of the fingertips – until Spock wrenched them away.

“Now I’m no longer afraid of things, Jim. I’m not afraid to do _anything_ , because I’m willing to try _everything_ with you – for you. If you wish to... to pursue this relationship, then I will be bowing to your will. Although I have to say – just for the record – that it is quite foolish for a man in your position to be so reckless.”

Kirk croaked out a laugh at the last sentence – because it was so utterly _Spock_ ; and because it was a _laugh or moan_ sort of statement. Did Spock even realize what images he was provoking within the human by his apparent subjugation to every whim of the man?

Intelligent, dark eyes watched him intently and he knew that he was doomed, when a bright flame of understanding started to burn within them and the Vulcan slowly leaned forward, right into his personal space and breathed against Kirk’s ear, “You wanted me – and now you got me... _my Captain_.”

Jim’s eyes fell closed and a helpless moan came over his lips; however, he could not revel for long in the heady arousal washing through his veins due to a body shoving itself between his thighs and clever hands pawing at the fastenings to his trousers.

He almost jack knifed, his eyes snapping back open and staring with an open mouth at the Vulcan between his legs.

“I... ah...” he began stuttering, his eyes widening slowly but surely in alarm. “Ah... ah... S-Spock? What are you... Spock!” he hissed, his hands flying down and grasping the slender wrists of the intelligent alien, just as he was in the process of shoving the long fingers inside the human’s briefs.

“What are you doing?! We’re in the middle of a park, for god’s sake!”

Dark eyes slowly lifted and peeked out from beneath ridiculously long eyelashes and _damn it_ if one should not be forbidden from looking so innocent, while one had his hand almost in the pants of another guy.

“I wanted to thank you, Jim,” came the soft reply, as if this was perfectly logical. “You’ve treated me so well these past days – you put up with everything without complaint, after all.”

“I... you...” he closed his eyes and willed his brain back into compliance – he needed to stop sputtering like a brain dead ape. He took a long breath and said with a voice that was only slightly trembling, “You don’t have to do that, Spock. It’s perfectly alright just as it –“

“But I _want_ to do it.”

Kirk started chewing on his tongue.

“ _Now?_ Here in the park?” he was positively whining at this point, but he could not be bothered to tone it down, because – hell, he was now achingly hard inside his shorts and there was a wet dream come true crouching between his legs and looking at him with simple adoration and – could Spock have picked a worse time to try and be assertive?!

“Are you... afraid?” Spock whispered suddenly and it was the very last thing the Captain would have expected out of the mouth of his little Priest and yet... he looked down and _yes_ there was it again. This mischievous, cocky look Spock had thrown him many a times, when he thought he could get away with murder.

Kirk’s pride peaked up and he knew that the Vulcan was knowingly pressing his buttons; yet, it couldn’t have mattered less.

“Me? Afraid? _Never_ ,” he growled at last, letting go of Spock’s wrists and leaning back, bracing himself with his arms again and raising mocking eyebrows. “Well? If you think you can handle it, my little Priest... feel free to do, what you like,” he said and felt so very magnanimous.

And just like that – the tables were turned once more. The mischievous light flickered out and was replaced by a certain shyness, while the Vulcan slowly looked down to where the fabric was stretching over Kirk’s twitching flesh and it was almost painfully obvious that Spock only now started to realize what he had begun.

However, Kirk would not try and talk him out of it again – he was only a man, after all.

There was a nervous gaze darted his way, but Spock was obviously too proud himself to ask for advice, so he simply leaned downward and started gingerly to nuzzle against the fabric. Kirk closed his eyes and breathed heavily. He could feel the moist, hot breath of his companion permeate his boxers and it was – heaven.

 

Jim’s hips were rolling forward in a gentle rhythm, his breath coming in soft gasps; he valiantly tried to keep quiet for the sake of not getting caught in this compromising situation. The path was only two metres away, after all. Every now and again one could hear crunching footsteps from people walking by.

His erection was currently in the grasp of hot, long fingers, that milked him inexpertly and the weeping head was subjected to moist breaths and an almost critical gaze from the Vulcan kneeling between his thighs.

“Use your mouth?” he croaked after a while, when it became apparent that Spock was somehow frozen on the spot – like a rabbit in the light of an oncoming car. Chocolate eyes flicked briefly up and the green tinge on the tips of his ears intensified, but he nodded nonetheless and slowly lowered his head.

His lips felt silky on the sensitive flesh of his cock and he got impossibly harder. His eyes threatened to roll backwards for a moment, but Kirk forced himself to open them once more, staring wide eyed down at what Spock was doing.

The green tinged lips opened over the flushed organ and very gingerly started gliding down. Kirk thought disjointedly, ‘These lips have recited a prayer not even half an hour ago...’

The thought was so unexpectedly heavy in its eroticism that his cock jerked and leaked pre-ejaculate. The Vulcan flinched slightly and drew back a little, his lips open over the erection – the salty fluid dribbling from his mouth down onto the glans. This time Kirk could not prevent his eyes from closing and dug his teeth deeply into his bottom lip so as to not moan out loud. Did Spock have _any_ concept as to how utterly delicious he was looking right now? Probably not.

The Captain forced himself to loosen his death grip on the grass with one hand and instead entwine his fingers into soft, black strands.

“’M sorry,” he breathed, stroking jerkily the scalp. “Happens sometimes. Just means you’re doing good, ‘kay?”

A sardonic look from previously soft eyes was darted his way, as if to say, ‘I’m no child, you know!’ but the long, slender body relaxed a little, nonetheless – and the hot mouth started taking him back in to Jim’s – and his dick’s – utter delight.

“Don’t go too far... just play with the... the head... will ya?” he growled, his hips gently rolling upwards once more. The thick muscles in his thighs were quivering with his restrain. “Don’t want you to choke, hm?”

Spock’s fingers, which were still wrapped around his pulsing shaft, were shivering ever so slightly – betraying that the Vulcan wasn’t as cool as he pretended to be.

There was slight suction and the lips were tightening, rubbing tantalizingly over the smooth surface of Kirk’s glans.

“Use... use your tongue more,” he croaked, head falling back into his neck and staring up into the canopy of dark leafs above them. A delirious grin started stretching his lips when he felt the flickering of a tongue against his fraenulum. Somewhere up there, someone had to really, really like him.

‘He’s my minion,’ he suddenly thought with perverse glee and almost cackled, had it not been for the fact that a Vulcan – a _Vulcan_ , for crying out loud! – was just in the process of trying to suck his life force out of his dick, while somehow retaining dignity. He would never, ever understand this creature – and thank god for that, because he would be able to spend a whole lifetime trying.

His hand was still on top of Spock’s head, idly playing with the soft strands, sliding every now and again to the side and fondling the tips of his ears.

“Watch your teeth,” he whispered, rolling his hips upwards once more. Spock hummed thoughtfully, the vibration of his voice sending delicious tingles down his shaft and causing him to gasp slightly.

“That’s good... perfect even... keep it up. Keep it up,” he whispered encouragingly, petting Spock and watching as he started playing with more inches, sliding further down, careful to curl his lips over the sharp edges of his teeth, while trying to breath through his nose. The air drafts were warm on the heated skin of his arousal.

After a while this method of breathing was not enough though, and the alien had to draw back for a moment, slightly panting himself, staring down at the flushed, glistening organ as if wondering what had happened to it.

Slowly he raised his head in increments, glancing up into the face of his Captain and flushing even further, when he saw the heated gaze directed his way. James moaned under his breath, when the creature licked his lips.

“Down... down again,” he encouraged with a hoarse voice, tugging at soft strands. “Not much longer, Spock – please...” he begged, his thighs falling open as far as his trousers were allowing him to. The Vulcan gingerly started lying down onto the moist grass – making himself comfortable, and looking just like a big cat, while doing so.

It did not take long, until his twitching cock was once again enveloped in wet, warm heat and sweet suction. He could not get enough of the way Spock’s cheeks hollowed out and his tongue pressed against the thick vein running along the underside of his cock, slowly rubbing up in one sweep and almost ending perfectly at the little dip on the very tip.

It was no overly intricate lovemaking or ingenious tongue play – but it was administered with the most thoughtfulness and honesty and therefore better than anything the Captain had ever felt.

His lust had been simmering the whole time – a deep burn in the small of his back, slowly curling outward into his extremities, making them heavy with delight. It was no mad rush towards the ending; Spock was too careful and shy in his handling for that. Rather it was a gently ascending hill, taking him higher and higher without him even noticing it, until he suddenly stood at the very peak and had the most breathtaking view all around.

Therefore it almost took him by surprise, when his climax finally came upon him. His lips formed a perfect ‘o’ of astonishment, his eyes widening, while his fingers tightened in Spock’s hair.

“Spock... I ... ahh!” He could not articulate it. All he could do was draw his Vulcan’s mouth away from his cock, afraid to simply shoot his load into his throat without the gentle man being properly prepared for it.

However, he had not thought his manoeuvre utterly through – unsurprising given the fact that his testicles were in the process of crawling almost up into his body in their effort to squeeze his essence out of his body – and so the first thick shot of semen landed square across Spock’s still open mouth.

His eyes locked with soft, brown ones that had darted up in their confusion to him and his teeth gritted painfully, as he watched another streak of semen being splashed across Spock’s lean cheek and another spurt – not as thick anymore – coating his chin.

The rest of his essence started lazily dribbling down his dick, unnoticed by both of them as Spock, still looking more than a little stunned, closed his mouth. Kirk could not hold back the whimper that escaped him, when he saw the Vulcan’s Adam’s apple bob, indicating him swallowing the mouth full of bitter fluid.

Before he scrambled for tissues to wipe the face of his companion clean and started stuttering apologies with a bright red face, he stared at this extraordinary man, face tilted up towards him, face dripping with his semen and eyes wide open in astonishment and silent gratification for having done the deed and knew, that he would never forget that sight.

 

He would also never forget the sight of Spock standing, three days later, in front of a whole row of high ranking Starfleet personnel and getting a speech from Pike, congratulating him on his brilliant marks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god I love facials *whispers into the dark room* xD
> 
> Just one chapter to go :) and because there is only that one chapter I won't be answering the question of 'will Kirk ever learn about the Vulcan kisses?' just yet. You just have to read, I'm afraid xD


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: Archmonkey

James T. Kirk had been able to coax a shy Vulcan Priest off his planet, convince the higher ups into accepting him for unscheduled tests, wormed his way into the heart of Spock (and into his pants) and managed to convince the important people to station this extraordinary man on the Enterprise.

However, even James T. Kirk – highly intelligent Captain of the flagship of the renowned Starfleet – could not possibly, with good conscience, trample over everyone of his crewmen and just plop Spock down as an Officer.

So when he stood in the Transporter room, back straight and proud, broad chest wrapped in the golden fabric of his tunic, he had the pleasure of greeting one Ensign Spock, beaming on board the Enterprise for the first time; looking utterly exotic and foreign in his science blues and gazing about with the soft curiosity that had been apparent even months prior in the temple of _Kir-Alep_.

When Spock stepped gracefully down from the pad and inclined his head towards the human while intoning, “Captain” Kirk could not withhold the broad smile answering the amused crinkling in the corners of Spock’s eyes.

 

Kirk never had been tempted to push one under his charge prematurely up the ranks; but the simple fact, that he and Spock would not see each other, was frankly pushing him dangerously close to reconsider this decision.

However, he should not have worried so much – in this instance the Vulcan was, quite frankly, way more efficient.

Only one month after he came on board, Science Officer Lawry demanded the Vulcan should get a promotion – which made Ensign Spock into Lieutenant Spock.

 

Kirk was lying on his bunk, staring listlessly at the ceiling, when a soft beeping noise caused him to look up and towards his worktable. A confused grunt escaped him and he struggled to his feet, slouching towards the desk. He needed a couple of seconds, until he unearthed the source of the beeping.

It was a PADD. No – he corrected himself, while his heart started hammering – it was _the_ PADD. He eagerly opened the message.

 

‘ _We have not heard from each other in a while, Captain_.’

 

Jim plopped down in his chair and answered – a doofus grin was spread across his face.

 

‘ _’A while’, Lieutenant Spock? Seems awfully imprecise of you. And to think that Lawler has been praising your diligence so much.’_

_‘Very well. It has been 1.89 Months since our last personal interaction, Captain. I merely endeavoured not to overwhelm you with overly precise facts. You have been talking about me?’_

_‘Of course I have – need to keep tabs on my sole resident Vulcan, don’t you think?’_

_‘I hope my work has been satisfactory_?’

 

Kirk grinned, perfectly able to imagine the nervousness entering dark eyes on the other side of the ship.

 

‘ _Your work has indeed been... satisfactory.’_

_‘I am not entirely sure, but I think there was an innuendo hidden somewhere?’_

_‘Oh, my innocent friend. It was not that hidden, I can assure you_.’

 

There was a lull in their conversation and Kirk almost feared he had scared the Priest off until...

 

‘ _I am sorry, sir. An emergency has come up in the labs and it requires my attention_.’

 

Kirk sighed deeply, shoulders slumping in defeat.

 

‘ _Alright_ ,’ he typed back, ‘ _we’ll write at a later point, Lieutenant.’_

_‘Very well, Captain_ ,’ came the reply and Kirk just was about to lay the PADD down, when there was another message quickly added.

 

‘ _I miss you, Jim_.’

 

Inexplicable warmth filled his extremities and he typed back, ‘ _Miss you too, Spock._ ’

 

.oOo.

 

They started up their messaging in between their daily chores again. Kirk felt a little more at ease, knowing that his Vulcan was still there – being suddenly separated after having lived together so intimately, had made him almost think it had all been a dream.

To be able to start up their chess matches again, peppered with their special brand of banter, made everything more bearable.

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _I want to meet up with you, Spock.’_

_‘It’s simply too dangerous...’_

_‘It’s been nearly five months!’_

_‘I am aware of that fact._ ’

 

Jim threw the PADD onto the night table with a huff.

 

.oOo.

 

Two weeks later the unthinkable happened – they met by chance in the elevator. Kirk had a feeling of vertigo when the doors opened and he suddenly was face to face with his resident brilliant Vulcan.

Soft, brown eyes just widened in alarm, while Kirk surreptitiously looked around and, upon seeing nobody, herded Spock backwards and further into the cabin, slamming his lips over the protesting mouth even before the doors had properly closed behind them.

There was only a split second of indecision stiffening the hotter-than-human body, before Spock brought his arms up and clamped them in a vicelike grip around him.

The Captain moaned in delirious gratification, sucking Spock’s tongue into his mouth eagerly, while strong fingers curled into the gold fabric of his shirt.

The wet slide of tongues and slight clicking of teeth was loud in his ears.

Surprisingly enough, it was himself that was sensible enough to stop, before it got out of hand. The whimper Spock emitted went through his body like a hot iron through butter. He pressed his forehead against Spock’s, while gently cupping a heated cheek.

“Shh... shh... Spock,” he crooned soothingly against open lips. The Vulcan opened his eyes, frantically blinking, and stared directly at the human. James’ heart almost broke at the raw need he saw there and suddenly he understood Spock’s reluctance to join him; they would not be able to separate again. As soon as they started going down that road, nothing would keep them apart any longer. It was a daunting prospect. It was too dangerous.

“We’ll find something, Spock,” he whispered.

 

When Lawler demanded her best scientist to take up a place on the bridge so he could shine and bring attention to the efficiency of her department, Kirk was almost ridiculously grateful. He immediately admitted Spock to the Alpha Shift, because – really... he as the Captain had to keep an eye on him, didn’t he?! Spock was still new to the ship, after all.

 

Kirk always felt a little apprehension when Spock beamed down planet side for investigation, but in the eight months the Lieutenant had been on the Enterprise, there had been only praise for the intelligent, albeit reticent, Vulcan.

However, when the distress call came, his gut clenched almost spasmodically in anguish and his face became absolutely pale.

He was still running towards the transporter room, when medical personnel came bustling around a corner with various occupied gurneys. They almost ran into him, before he could manage to jump out of the way. He only got a glimpse of the seemingly lifeless bodies. One in particular stood out – because of the quantities of green blood, instead of red.

The Captain thought he might be sick.

 

“How are they, Bones?”

“He’s alright, Jim.”

The Captain paused in his way to the injured members of the away team and glanced towards the Doctor.

“Excuse me?” he croaked and McCoy started to grin. It was a sharp, shark-like expression.

“Don’t try to fool me, Jim. Everybody knows about you and the Vulcan.”

Kirk had to do a double take, staring at his best friend with utter disbelief.

“What?!” he hissed, staggering back towards McCoy’s desk and flopping down in a chair.

“But... I... we... _How_?!” he stuttered weakly, feeling his fingers go trembling and clammy. They had been so _careful_.

The Doctor snorted a ‘Puh-leeease!’, rocking back with his chair and scrutinizing his friend.

“You two probably thought yourself super-discreet, Jim, but you couldn’t be more obvious in your mooning, if you tried. The amount of eye-sex on the bridge is utterly ridiculous – makes me gag. Although Uhura thinks it’s cute.”

There was silence in the room, while Kirk reminded himself that he knew _words_ and should probably be using them; his mouth, however, continued working without sound, until he spluttered and croaked, “So you all knew? Since he came to the bridge? That was... three months ago! I – what do you mean by, she thinks it’s cute?” he interrupted himself.

Bones grimaced as if pulling out a splinter from his hands.

“Don’t know. She mumbled something like ‘They’re so adorable and sweet’ or something along the lines. I didn’t listen properly, to be honest. I am, though, a little surprised that you managed to be exclusively fucking one guy for so long.”

Kirk emitted an indignant squawk and narrowed his eyes.

“But I haven’t fucked him!” he hissed. “We haven’t even _touched_ since he got here for fear of getting discovered and reported to the Fleet!”

McCoy stared at him with a calculating look, before the hard gaze melted into something thoughtful.

“Huh. Well that is awkward, then, isn’t it? Because we all thought you were at it like rabbits. And I can tell you – no one’s having hard feelings or anything. To be honest, I think they quite like their pet Vulcan. From what I understand he saved the away team down there, with his big brain. I wouldn’t be surprised, if they’d started cooing and tickling him. Of course they wouldn’t do it knowing he’d bite their hands off, if they actually did it – in a highly logical way, mind you.”

Jim just sat across from Bones, his eyes a little glassy.

His mind was blown.

 

.oOo.

 

‘ _Hey Spock – you back?’_

_‘I am back in my room, if your poorly worded question inquired to my whereabouts.’_

_‘Ouch. Are you mad or something?’_

_‘Negative – I merely am exhausted regarding human companionship after my prolonged stay in the infirmary.’_

_‘Then you’re probably not keen on having more humans around.’_

_‘What do you mean?’_

_‘Come to my rooms, will you?’_

_‘Captain...’_

_‘That’s an order, Lieutenant. I want to show you something._ ’

 

When his intercom chimed and the deep baritone of Spock was to be heard, exactly ten minutes had gone by.

“Captain. I am here as per your request.”

Jim grinned like a maniac when the door opened. He _knew_ he looked like an idiot – and yet he could not stop it.

“Spock...” he breathed, his throat constricting with the wave of emotions washing through his system as he observed the Vulcan gingerly stepping inside.

Spock held himself very carefully, the slanted eyebrows drawn together into a little frown and the corners of his mouth curled downwards. He still seemed to be in a certain amount of pain from what Jim could deduce. He had gotten better at interpreting the body language of his sole Vulcan crewmember (big surprise there – he had been watching Spock incessantly, after all), but it still was a little feat to accomplish it.

The door swished shut behind the overly straight back of his companion, before Kirk rushed towards Spock and almost bowled him over in his eagerness to get him into his arms.

The Captain burrowed his face in the crook of Spock’s neck, inhaling deeply. The Vulcan’s scent, usually nearly undetectable, was overlaid by the chemical scents of the labs and a spicy, exotic _something_ that made the back of Jim’s head tingle. It took him a moment to correctly place it as the scent of Spock’s incense.

Long arms gingerly started twining around him, holding him loosely. A long breath rushed out of Spock’s chest – it jostled the hair on top of Kirk’s head and tickled his ear.

“Jim...” the Vulcan whispered haltingly. James shook his head, face still smothered against the hotter-than-human skin. It felt dense, dry and utterly silky.

“I almost pissed my pants, when that distress call came,” he said gruffly and felt the long arms tighten around him.

They stood a little while right there in front of the door just inside his quarters – entwined in a desperate grasp.

When Spock spoke at last, his voice was a little more husky than usual.

“I think I should go...”

“No.”

“Jim...”

“They already know, Spock. Or – they think they know, because we haven’t done, what they think and...” he was babbling and he had to halt himself, but it was so hard in the face of that slender body in his arms going more and more rigid. “They think we are together. And it doesn’t bother them. Nobody’s going to tell on us, Spock.”

“How could they know?” Spock asked, his voice astonishingly small and vulnerable.

Finally, Kirk drew away from his warm, intriguing smelling haven and peeked into the austere face of the Vulcan. Spock’s eyes were large and somehow startled. Kirk’s lips slowly curved into a half-amused, half-self-deprecating grin.

“Well, according to Bones, we’ve been ‘eye-sexing’ one another on the bridge.”

Spock did not really splutter – but it was a close call. His lips opened into a semblance of surprise, while a softly breathed “Oh...” escaped him and the tips of his ears flushed green with a vengeance.

Kirk’s gaze travelled across the narrow face. He took in the tiny creases of strain around those expressive eyes and the uncertainty entering the shifting gaze. He smiled indulgently.

“Come – I really want to show you something. I haven’t only said that to lure you into my lair, you know.”

His hands travelled down arms that had fallen to Spock’s sides sometime during his amazement, and grasped the hands softly. He could hear the hitch in Spock’s breath and smiled in slight confusion. By now it was obvious to him, that the gentle creature was somehow fixated on hands. Why exactly that was – he could not tell. In the end it was not important.

He simply took it as a peculiarity of his little Priest and obediently entwined their fingers, just so he could watch velvety black pupils dilate.

“Come...” he breathed and tugged the alien across the room towards the partition separating the little sleeping alcove from the main area.

Before they set foot behind the partition, though, Kirk halted again and threw a gaze backwards.

“You... still meditate, I take it?” he asked and could see the way one slanted eyebrow shot up, implying he had surprised the Vulcan.

“Of course. It is a vital part in retaining my emotional balance.”

Kirk nodded slightly. He was not sure, if he ought to be relieved or more agitated, so he simply squared his shoulders and willed himself to not feel anything at all. When he stepped past the partition and resolutely walked towards a large chest standing at the foot of his bunk, he looked for all the world like a man going into battle and not like someone that wanted to gift something.

But could you blame him? Kirk was not really known for... overly emotional displays or something. It was not his style – most of the time. However, most of the time he also had not been pining away for one and the same person, so – there was that.

He crouched down, opening the lid of the large chest and started to rummage through his belongings, until he found what he had been looking for.

“Well, I read a little about meditation, you know,” he started explaining himself, still crouched and pretending he was still wildly occupied with what he was doing. “I read that it is often easier to slip into the trance, if there is something to fixate onto, like breathing patterns and such. But visual aids are also not uncommon, I think, so... yeah...”

He faltered and came to an awkward standstill. Normally Jim possessed a tongue of silver. Currently it seemed to have degenerated into lead, though. He stood up, the heavy, large object in his hands and turned around – only to notice that Spock had stopped in the ‘doorway’ and his gaze was fixed on an entirely different section of the little space – namely the rectangular window above Kirk’s bed. The Captain followed the mesmerized stare of deep, brown eyes and gazed into the vastness of space.

“What is it?” he asked and looked back to Spock. The Lieutenant blinked a few times slowly, looking like he was coming out of a dream.

“It is nothing. I was just...” Spock tapered off. He was looking for some reason almost sheepish – although Kirk could not tell why that was, because there was virtually no indication for this sentiment on the neutral features. And yet it made him feel more at ease. A slow, attractive smile stretched across his face and he stepped towards the alien.

“Here, Spock. And as soon as you are an Officer, you’ll get a little niche to put it in– alright?” he said solemnly, while holding up the heavy item in his hands. Spock lowered his gaze and Jim could pinpoint the exact moment he computed the sight of the idol – a miniature of the _Kir-alep_ statue from his temple – because his pupils dilated violently and his lips opened ever so slightly.

“Jim...” Spock breathed, reaching out and tracing the benign, smiling features of the Vulcan god with trembling fingertips. “Why did you...”

“Well,” the Captain interrupted a little gruffly and feeling embarrassed while swelling with pride over his feat to render Spock almost speechless, “I figured it was only fair; after all, I kind of whisked you away from your temple and all that jazz. Thought it would be nice for you to have a... familiar face around.”

When Spock raised his eyes and looked at the human, there was nothing shielding his emotions this time. The sheer amount of raw longing and gratitude and utter devotion made Kirk’s throat tighten and his hands slippery. He tightened his hold on the heavy statue.

“Thank you, Jim. Again. I will _never_ be able to repay your kindness,” the Priest whispered with an air of reverence and traced Kirk’s features with the same adoration as he had only moments prior the face of _Kir-alep_.

Kirk thought he had been worshipped before by nameless women and men. He now knew how utterly _wrong_ he had been.

 

The Captain began slowly divesting Spock of his clothes. The Vulcan was pliant and eager beneath his hands, but the manic fluttering of his heart beneath Jim’s fingertips told the human loads about how nervous he really was.

“Shhh...” he whispered between kisses against moist, open lips, nibbling and sucking at the skin until they were flushed an enticing apple green colour. “Just let me take care of you, hm?” he breathed, slipping his hand from the flank of this gentle being and starting to work on his trousers. When he could no longer resist and let his fingers tickle the hard bulge underneath the rough fabric, Spock whimpered. It went straight to his cock.

“Lay down,” he growled against the creamy skin of Spock’s shoulder, when he had unravelled the alien from the restricting garments and thought his heart might leap out of his throat when he observed the slender body crawl unto the narrow mattress without hesitation. Just before Spock could lay down and arrange his long limbs, however, a thought came to the Captain and he hastily demanded a “Halt!”

Large, brown eyes flicked towards him; surprise warring with uncertainty, as Spock without a doubt tried to figure out what he had done wrong. Kirk only shook his head, snatching the pillows up and throwing them to the foot of the bed.

“Here... that way,” he croaked, while shimmying out of his trousers. Spock looked dubious, but complied easily enough. His slanted eyebrows were drawn together in uneasiness and his long fingers started curling into the sheets near his hips, while watching Kirk hastily undress himself.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” the human demanded after having kicked off his underwear and stood in all his glory in front of the supine alien. To his utter astonishment and secret delight, Spock’s high cheekbones suffused with colour in embarrassment and his eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to escape the inquiring stare of his Captain.

“I... find you... very pleasing,” he said after a while, baritone voice husky. Kirk marvelled at the way this usually eloquent man was reduced to nothing but fragmented sentences.

‘And all because of me...’ he thought, eyes raking over the long body. There were still bruises to be seen underneath the dense skin – reminders of how close this creature had come to being extinguished down on that planet.

When Kirk slid onto the bed and over Spock, he suddenly felt their roles reversed – he was no longer the god; the deity to be serviced and praised. He was reduced to the acolyte of this Vulcan – reverently tracing the tendons and muscles, nuzzling against soft hair and sensitive skin. Kirk worshipped Spock; coaxing soft sounds of delight out of the long throat seemingly against the Vulcan’s will, making him pliant and heavy with a relaxation that stood in a most titillating contrast to the way slim hips moved upwards in an obvious, rhythmical motion, seeking for friction that was not to be found.

When his fingers whispered over the slick, hard column of Spock’s shaft and trailed down to tickle the heavy testicles, the Vulcan’s hands snapped up fingers started entwining with the unruly blond locks of the Captain.

Kirk raised his gaze and realized with a breathless grin that Spock had found out why they had reverted to the other end of the bed. Soft, brown eyes were heavy lidded and open in a way that looked almost transcendent, while they were fixed on the window above the bed. Staring out into space – feasting on the calmness and serenity and utter beauty, while generously slicked fingers started very gingerly circling the tender orifice hidden between his buttocks.

Jim watched as pearl white teeth sank down into the plush cushion of Spock’s lower lip and the tendons in his neck started straining against the skin with his back arching upwards – all in answer to the innocent fingertip wiggling its way into the searing hot body.

Soft kisses were bestowed upon sharp, jutting hipbones and every now and again he sucked the weeping head of Spock’s erection into his mouth, only to let it pop out again with an obscene ‘plop’.

Slowly but surely his finger sank deeper into the clutching, pulling body. His eyes threatened to roll back into his head at the tightness surrounding him and he had to look away from the conflicting emotions of delight and discomfort writhing over his Vulcan’s features. He concentrated instead on the inside of one creamy, trembling thigh and started nipping the skin.

Spock jerked in response, spearing himself unwittingly deeper on the intruding digit and _moaning_ aloud into the room. They stilled for but a second, Kirk gazing up along the long line of the alien’s torso in order to lock gazes with the large eyes. The tips of Spock’s ears became forest green in his embarrassment. Kirk would have nothing of that.

A devious smile spread across his lips, before he searched and – yes, there was it. The little gland causing the Vulcan to jerk again and whimper in response.

When the human started sliding another of his broad, strong fingers into the tender orifice, Spock slowly drew his long legs up, placing his feet flat on the mattress and spreading the trembling thighs.

Kirk moaned deliriously against the soft skin right at the crease where thigh met pelvis. Long fingers started entwining with his hair again and the mental image of Spock, lying on the bed, opening his legs in silent invitation with his hands thrust between his thighs, was so heady that he had to push the heel of his hand viciously against his eager cock to refrain from climaxing.

It took long, until he was satisfied with the preparation – part because he could not bear the thought of causing this gentle creature pain and part because he adored the way Spock started writhing and emitted the most delicious sounds and started to loose more and more of his inhibitions, begging Kirk with the sweetest words to take him

“Please, please, now... now Jim! I can’t, I... please now, please!”

How could he resist?

He shouldered one of those mile-long legs on his way up and was delighted in the way his Vulcan eagerly accommodated him; no sign of displeasure in the flushed features or glassy eyes. They were opened wide, no longer staring out the window, but directly into the face of the Captain. The other leg was winding itself without having to be prompted, around his waist and drew him closer towards the searing hot body, cradling him oh-so-perfectly against his hip.

Both men let their breaths rush out of them, simply gazing at one another, pretending not to be in a mad rush to completion and ignoring the wild twitching of their organs or the way Spock’s erection produced another generous squirt of lubrication.

“Spock...” Kirk breathed, staring down into the normally aloof face – now alight with the most frantic emotions. Long fingers grazed his face; the tips hot pressure points against his cheek and temple. The large chocolate eyes became vulnerable and so pleading and hopeful that it almost wrenched his heart right out of his chest.

“Yes, Spock... yes...” he answered the unspoken question, while shifting his hips and finally – _finally!_ – starting to push his thick girth into the clutching, awaiting channel.

It would have been almost comical – the way Spock managed to contort his face simultaneously into utter joy and desperate surprise, when he felt himself getting breached, obviously unable to compute the feeling of being stretched and filled.

His hands scrambled for purchase on Kirk’s broad shoulders, while his leg fell away from one of them and joined his other one in curling around the trim waist and drawing him inexorably nearer and deeper.

“Spock... ahh...” he breathed against a temple. He could feel the hectic fluttering of the pulse beneath his lips and pressed reverent kisses against the vulnerable skin. There was... _something_... like an electrical charge from the point of contact and Spock suddenly _bucked_ beneath him and just like that – all bets were off.

Two bodies started undulating and winding against one another; pushing and pulling in a delicious rhythm that started gingerly and oh-so-slowly, before it became more frantic and hectic and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled their ears obscenely.

“So tight... so, so tight,” Jim moaned without realizing that he had vocalized his thoughts. One hand was lying on Spock’s right thigh, gripping forcefully the thick muscles and pliant flesh. The heels of the Vulcan’s feet were digging almost painfully into the backs of his own thighs in their eagerness to help him push deeper and deeper, seeking to crawl into the clutching, searing body – and Spock seeking to sheath all of him.

He felt all of himself starting to coil. His very being seemed to draw tighter and tighter and the Captain felt a certain kind of panic overcome him as the utterly irrational thought of ‘I’m going to explode; I’m going to fall; I’m going to loose myself’ entered his head.

One of the hot hands loosened its desperate grip on his broad shoulders and the fingertips pressed against his sweat drenched face and there was a violent _jolt_ of _something_ that his body was not able to discern whether it was pleasurable or hurt like a bitch and then – he _did_ fall.

He felt simply too full _not_ to fall. Spock was everywhere – around him, within him, above him, beneath him... It was madness. Hot and cold and terrifying; crude pleasure washing through his body, streaming out in relentless waves out of the point of agony between his legs. His system was no longer able to place everything into the right proportions and so he just let go and let himself get washed away on the wave of madness and in the end – it was simply bliss.

 

It was Spock, in the end, who rearranged their bodies and cleaned them a little and tucked them away under the sheets. When Kirk was able to crack one eye open he was met with a most nervous and uncomfortable stare out of anxious, dark eyes and moaned.

“Stop that!” he hissed. Slanted eyebrows drew upwards in surprise.

“Jim?” he asked cautiously.

“Stop looking like that,” the Captain growled, poking with his right pointer finger at the crease between Spock’s eyebrows – and quite frankly he was _so_ amazed over his ability to speak and move so coordinated. Really, he would have thought he would poke Spock’s eye out, but obviously he was just _that_ awesome.

“This was... amazing, Spock. Simply... wow,” he grumbled and _okay_ maybe his ability to speak wasn’t _that_ up to standard, but who could blame him after the experience right now?

“So you liked it?”

And how could someone as intelligent as the Vulcan be so utterly dense?

“Idiot,” he whispered and drew Spock’s head down for a sloppy kiss, before placing his mouth against a pointed ear. “I absolutely _loved_ it. It was amazing, Spock. Trust me. And just to be perfectly clear: We’re going to repeat that. _Often_. And I’m going to establish a new religion. Thought something along the lines of the ‘Sexy Vulcan Priests’ religion.”

There was silence and he drew back in order to look into a face that was gazing distinctly unimpressed back at him and the Captain rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. The name is dumb – but I’m not quite eloquent right now, you know? I’ve been shagged out of my mind, if you haven’t noticed. I’ll think about something better, promise.”

Spock held the expression a few more seconds, before it slowly melted away into something much more agreeable and warm and he ducked his head in order to steal a soft kiss from the human.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so^^ one last dumb joke at the end :P
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little tale^^ it was absolutely fun to write it, because normally I write way more darker stuff... but this lightheartedness somehow grew to me x3
> 
> Next, I'll start uploading my first story in this fandom... it'll be very angsty and triggery, though >.o be warned :O
> 
> thanks to all who have read and left kudos and comments and generally were awesome-sauce people^^


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